


Mnemosyne: Trial and Tribulations

by FeyNWiddershins



Series: Mnemosyne [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV/Comics), Jessica Jones (Comics/TV), Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 'Tribulations' is not a joke..., Adult Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development Interrupted by Universe Developments, Courtroom Drama, F/M, Gen, Magic and Mysticism Incorporated more Intrinsically into the Universe, Major Original Character(s), Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Medical Trauma, Mild Sexual Content, Original Character-centric AU, Other, Tedious Legal Proceedings, explicit content, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-18 15:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 71,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7321006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeyNWiddershins/pseuds/FeyNWiddershins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tessa has come into her own just in time for the world to shit on her head. All of the self-discovery and steps forward grind to a sudden halt when the political and social situation of her community devolves into Civil War. As she becomes a beacon of hatred and fear, her friends do their best to help Tessa survive the transition into a new world of superhuman regulation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Umbrella Vs. Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Again, the pacing of this AU differs from that followed in Civil War but hits the same key plot points.
> 
> ***CA:CW SPOILERS BELOW***
> 
> By the time the bomb goes off outside the UN building in Vienna tensions have been running high between the pro- and anti-Accords sides of both superhuman and civilian communities alike. Ross's taskforce on the ground and the ATCU have helped the general fear of enhanced individuals reach an even higher fever pitch. After the bombing, Stark holds a press conference, at the behest of Ross and the UN committee, to assure the world not only that the travesty will not go unanswered, but that it will be answered by those deployed by and answerable to the peoples of the world. Compelled by his guilt-complex, he also reveals the existence of Tessa, also in hopes of mobilizing her under the Accords to aid the UN's investigation.  
> Meanwhile, the search for Bucky Barnes begins. Cap and Co. race against Black Panther and the special ops forces of several nations to track down the Winter Soldier.  
> It takes months, even with the whole world on high alert for him.  
> This story picks up several days into the search, once the UN has rejected Stark's proposals to utilize Tessa's skill set and the Accord-compliant Avengers team has been benched. With no one answering for the countless deaths of the past few months, public scrutiny and vitriol has turned on Tessa. Ross is in talks with several branches of the government on how best to proceed with the now infamous Mnemosyne, but the public doesn't wait for the authorities to decide. They act as judge and jury on the streets. Sometimes more.

" _Unknown number. Unknown number. Unknown number._ "

The bed felt huge and cold as he jerked awake. There was a ringing in his head that wasn't in his ears and the left side of his body felt leaden. For a split second, it all seemed like a bad dream, but then, the emptiness beside him refreshed his memory. It had been a truly horrific night. Now, the sun was rising and nothing had changed. He was still battered, bruised, and alone.

And his phone was still ringing.

" _Unknown number. Unknown num--_ " Matt felt a rib grind as he reached for his night stand. His teeth were clenched tight as he answered.

"Matt Murdock."

"Mr. Murdock. Ashlynn Dale. Can you comment on the most recent enhanced fugitive's frequent presence at your firm?"

The woman's voice was so upbeat. It was if she wasn't flagrantly invading his privacy at six forty-five in the morning. "How did you get this number?"

"Ms. Tessa Bisho, the enhanced figure known as Mnemosyne? She was a staple at your firm, Nelson and Murdock, working as a private investigator."

"I don't know how you got my personal number, but I'm not commenting on this."

"Don't you think her access to people's most intimate personal thoughts makes her an unethical presence at a law firm, much less one of two attorneys involved with the DA in usually un-actionable cases?"

"No comment. Don't call me on this line again." The call ended as he slammed the phone down. His temper fizzled out as he winced at the pain in his arm. He was an exposed nerve that morning, in more ways than one. It had been a rough night.

Nine Hours Ago:

"They can't come into your home. They can't. They don't have a warrant yet. It's illegal. Just stay at Jessica's and you'll be fine." He was exposed up there, hissing into a phone, but she wasn't listening. Matt squatted down lower on the roof and tried to whisper over Tessa's panicked shouting. "No, going out there, whether you think it'll prove you're harmless or not, will definitely only make it worse. It'll just frighten them. They're already incensed about your powers--"

"I'm not just going to fade into the woodwork. I'm a human being. I'm not going to be trapped in my house forever because they don't understand me!"

"No, listen. I think it's temporary. They'll calm down, but not with you shoving your powers down their throats." He was desperate to talk her down, but that was like trying to stop a hurricane with an umbrella. She blew right over him. "No, please. Just stay put-- fuck!"

He cursed in full voice, disregarding any audience he had. The line was quiet and Tessa hadn't listened to reason. Burner phone smashed against the roof anyways, Matt set off to follow up with actions instead of words. He had a good idea where he would find her.

For the past two days, since Stark's earth-shattering press conference, the public had quickly and sometimes explosively shown their support for or against Tessa. One of those outlets for support had taken shape in a pro-Mnemosyne demonstration in front of the Jenkins Memorial Wing, outside of Tessa's old home. That night they were holding their second vigil straight. The local news had reported on it that morning. They were there to show thanks, but many were also hoping for help. Matt had zero doubts that that was where Tessa would go, to show that she was a boon not a bane.

There was something deeply appropriate about returning to the hospital that night. Tessa felt like it was exactly the right move, the right gesture to prove who she really was. An innocent person didn't hide in their house. A harmless person didn't sit on their hands just in case. They helped, they proved their intentions. So, the UN's joint taskforce, or whatever, didn't want her help investigating the bombing? They didn't trust her word that it wasn't Barnes? Fine, she couldn't do anything about that. But, the people gathered in front of the hospital were there for her, were out in the elements, on the hard concrete, for her. She owed it to them to make an appearance. She could do something for them. In the soft candlelight, she immediately recognized some of their faces. Some were there _because_ she had helped them. Others, she could feel immediately, were there so that she could help them.

Unfortunately, a third group was also camped out there that evening. Tessa didn't notice them to begin with, but it didn't take long for them to catch her attention. Across the street, or they had been across the street, was a pulsing throng of less than amiable supporters, supporters of her arrest. The quiet joy at her appearance by the demonstrators on her side was quickly overwhelmed by those protesting her existence. They used elbows and bats, even a few heavier weapons to swarm Tessa and force her away from her task.

There were few police deployed to that site that night. Their whistles and nightsticks didn't part the sea of anger threatening to swallow Tessa. After all, only about four of them even tried. It was a teeming mass of limbs and outrage that Tessa found herself trapped within, but she didn't react. This was not was she was there to do. She was there to demonstrate her harmlessness, her good intentions. Fighting their rage wouldn't prove that. Slipping from their indignant grasp, would only work against the reputation she was hoping to foster. They couldn't really hurt her, not physically. So, Tessa refused to resist their protest. She only tried to convince them otherwise.

"I'm only here to help," she pleaded, pointing to the group of hopefuls, recovering from being shoved away so violently. She looked as many of her assailants as she could in the eye and repeated that. "I'm only here to help the people over there who want it, not to invade anyone's privacy."

"Did you ask?" They shouted back. A new mouth adding to her turmoil every second. "When you gave back someone's repressed memory, did you help then? Those dark secrets that had finally left my mom alone, did she need those?"

The questions fueled their fury. Words continued to hail down upon her, soon accompanied by projectiles, by garbage and rocks. Tessa stopped trying to convince them and accepted it. The soda can that struck her eye was still full. Had she been vulnerable, it surely would have concussed her. The rocks that bounced from her face left no marks, sharp as they were, and that too seemed to stoke the flame. They wanted to tear her apart, to tear her down. She terrified them, so they wanted to destroy her. A cigarette butt successfully set her shirt on fire and she let it burn away. All that was left was her suit,  Mnemosyne's suit. Hands clasped at it, tried to tear it. Fists sunk into it, trying to crush her. Tessa let the blows land, swaying with their impact and focusing instead on the people who wanted her there.

The physical assault was way too thorough. The jostling and the impacts made finding the threads impossible. She feared she'd pull the wrong one and prove them right. So, again, she settled on just enduring. They would tire in time and she would be left unharmed. Perhaps then they would let her work. The knife that crumpled against her stomach didn't even lodge in her suit. It slid across her body with the force of the thrust behind it, leaving it's wielder eye to eye with her. She saw only shock and frenzied terror. Others tried similarly and failed similarly. The expressions were the same each time. Apparently, they found it uncomfortable to look their failed murder victim in the eye.

As a bottle broken over her head tried once again to bring her to her knees, a canister came clattering to a stop at Tessa's feet. The gas bomb exploded with a blast that knocked several people over and left them all lost in a cloud of smoke. It was dry to Tessa, seemed to burn her attackers' eyes as they stumbled around, knuckling away tears. A high-pitched whine Tessa recognized immediately and was followed by a second. Two bright, blinding flashes left the immediate vicinity a haze of fading false daylight. But still Tessa didn't move. The vigil was for her. They deserved her time.

The protestors were momentarily dazed as Clint shoved his way through them. Tessa stood rooted in their center, purple eyes shining, fists clenched at her sides. He had to get to her while she was in that trance, before one of these morons figured out some weapon that would work.

"Get back!" He snapped as the first of them began recovering. They were adamant. Clint reached her, but before he could pull Tessa from this ridiculous mess they were on top of them. "Get back! She's not hurting you! You're trying to kill an unresisting woman!"

Tessa sunk to her knees as Clint strung another flash bomb. She had given up. He couldn't have her giving up. The flash bombs and putty arrows secured Clint a four yard radius around them pretty quickly, but no exit was in sight. He needed to coax Tessa into escaping. They needed to phase out of there. Especially since he was out of non-lethals almost immediately.

"Come on, Tess," he tugged at her elbow. "We gotta get outta here. They're going rabid. It'll be a full-on riot soon."

She bobbed as a wad of trash found its target in her face. "Maybe I deserve it."

Clint groaned, glaring at the direction of the fast food bag. A few shock arrows fired at the ground only kept them where they were. They kept encroaching all the same, slow and steady. "This is not just about you. It's about all of us. You're just an easy target because your powers are so intense, hit so close to home--" He popped the man attempting to kick Tessa in the foot with his bow. He crumpled back into the crowd with a yelp. "--People like their secrets. Come on."

But still she wouldn't move. And worse, she didn't respond. Some asshole had enough gall to deck Clint across the jaw as he bent over to pull her up. His head spun as he found his feet, jaw throbbing. The two of them were being slowly herded against a fence. They'd be ripped apart if they got backed in there. Bow over his shoulder, Clint pulled out something scarier.

"Alright, you asked for it." They hesitated as he clicked the clip into place and flipped off the safety. "They're rubber bullets, but that doesn't mean they won't hurt."

These futzing nutters had exactly ten seconds before Clint started giving them bruises they would definitely resent the superhuman community for. At six, he lost count. That grumpy fuck, Daredevil dropped in from nowhere, and out of his neighborhood, too.

"Someone's coming to get her. We just have to keep these people off of her and from getting hurt."

Clint glanced down at the gun in his hand and sighed. Human shield it was.

The mob wanted Mnemosyne, but seemed quite content with beating the hell out of Hawkeye and Daredevil in the meantime. It was all the two of them could do to disarm the ones with actual weapons and to keep the others from plowing them down and stampeding over Tessa. Luckily, that someone, who Matt had mentioned, showed up before anything felt irreparably broken in their bodies, or the crowd's. It was a meteor of whiskey fumes and racing heartbeat that landed beside them, cursing incoherently before half-flying, half-leaping towards Hell's Kitchen. And Matt had been expecting Jessica to bring a car.

Now:

" _Daily Bugle. Daily Bugle. Daily_ \--" Matt ignored yet another call. It was the tenth since he'd gotten into the office.

One none too thick wall away Karen had the news up on her laptop. There was little it was saying that he wanted to hear. Too bad he couldn't tune it out. The last thing he wanted was to hear that damned selfish dickhead, Tony Stark, ruin Tessa's life on repeat. And yet, there he was reliving it.

"…in light of the tragedy in Vienna, and nonetheless in full cooperation with the as-of-yet-unratified Accords, we have decided to disclose the somewhat recent actions of myself and a small team of scientists to the public, in order to aid in the investigation as best we can. Attempting to avoid something much worse, we created something new and a little scary. Her name is Mnemosyne. She _was_ a world guardian that was dying. Now, she's a woman here in New York, Tessa Bisho. She keeps human memory safe for all of--

"And that was Tony Stark, not minutes after an international, super-terrorist massacre, admitting to creating this newest challenge to day to day life for the rest of us. I suppose we should be thanking him for his philanthropic feats, manufacturing this human individual with an enormously invasive power set that can literally _manipulate all of our memories_. That's right, folks, this one woman has access to everything we remember and not just access, but control over. Nothing will ever be private again. Frankly, it's a miracle that we still remember Stark outing her on national television! This woman is more than a superhuman, she's a superweapon! First Vienna, now our minds! We've got to regulate and control--"

"Turn it off, Karen. Please."

Matt stepped into the common area as it fell silent, grateful to his friend for the intervention. Foggy was in a less controlled descent into outrage.

He crumpled up a newspaper, scoffing. "Stark's made her the scapegoat. The media's going to filet her because she's an easy target and, with all the other superhuman atrocities so far unanswered for, she's the newest, biggest, _easiest_  target! She'll take the heat for the shit the rest of them should, for stuff she's not even remotely involved with… It's disgusting!"

"I am kind of surprised we all still remember this," Karen muttered. "She was so private about it, kept it to herself for so long. I mean, if it wasn't necessary that we know, do you think she would have told us? It just… it does seem kind of sketchy now that I think about it. That's all I'm saying."

Matt could feel his mouth pulling down into a frown, but couldn't stop it. Karen… Karen was entitled to that opinion, no matter how much it hurt to hear it.

"But she _did_ tell us," Foggy blurted out into the awkward silence. "She told us and we remember that and it didn't really change a single thing. Remember? She's ethical, just private about it--about everything. Now we can see that was for good reason! Ugh! What they're neglecting to mention is another big reason for her privacy, that none of this was her choice or her fault! She… she can't help it."

"They won't mention that, unfortunately." It managed to come out calmly, but Matt had shouted it in his head.

Karen's breathing faltered. Whatever she had been about to say gave way to confusion. "What? Wa--was she born this way or--"

"No. Stark literally made her into this."

"He was being serious?" It was just over a whisper, accompanied by fingers flying over keys.

"Yeah. He fused a cosmic… whatsit--thingamabob onto Tess after she was already dead! Not her choice."

"And she's struggled with it every day since," Matt sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting with them. "She's not ignorant to the responsibility and discretion she has to practice with this. Believe me."

Foggy groaned. "And they're just going to crucify her in the press. She'll be brought to trial, probably at a federal level, for violating multiple laws and regulations, maybe an amendment or two… Then there'll be a Congressional Committee hearing or some bullshit and the full wrath of the American government will be brought down on her head. It'll be a massacre, just because Stark has some god complex and somehow thinks he has to make up for Vienna… because he felt guilty about not having a leash on him and his!"

It was quiet as Matt fought the tug-of-war between his anger and despondency. There was the continual crinkle of Foggy systematically destroying the newspaper he'd been reading. At her desk Karen steadily chewed at a thumb nail.

"Does it have to be one, a massacre?" She asked eventually. "I mean, what if you two defend her? This is new territory, right? The case can't really be an obvious one… So, defend her. If anyone can clear her, it's you two. In fact, you might be the only lawyers with any reason to take her case and you're definitely the two who'll really invest yourselves and your time in it. You've got to defend her."

Matt could feel Foggy hopping on board. "Of course, we'll defend her. Right, buddy?"

"…You know we can't, Foggy…" The words were so painful to say. "Conflict of interest…"

"No, we're just acting on our judgment of her, like character witnesses. She was just a… oh…"

Matt sighed. "Yeah… 'Oh.'"

"'Oh,' what?"

Foggy left behind his newspaper demolition, began pacing the room. "Tessa contributed to our open cases. It's in our professional interest for her to be cleared. We can't represent her, and… it doesn't help that she and Matt were--are romantically involved."

The click of nail on teeth returned briefly. "But… isn't there a way around that? Can't she just… make that not the case so far as anyone is concerned?"

"That would be the unethical behavior Tessa's whole defense would be based on her not doing."

"Not if no one knows about it." Karen typed quickly on her keyboard and the press rampage filled the room again. "They don't know now, it would be a little thing. And besides, listen. It's not like they're going to contribute to a fair prosecution. We all know that. It would never have been _fair_. The jury will be too fired up by the media, the accidents and bombings, and everything else, too afraid of her to be impartial."

Foggy was nodding, had been since Karen had mentioned fairness. "She could just… make us all forget it ever happened."

"And what? Just have it as though our time with her never existed?" Even Matt was surprised by the volume of his voice. This was ludicrous.

"You want her free or do you want us to remember her, Matt?"

"And what about our cases she contributed to?"

"Attribute her stuff to Jess."

"Yeah, that'll be an easy explanation for us taking her case. Favor for a professional friend."

Now they were teaming up against him. He couldn't discount their points, though. In fact, the more the dust that his anger had kicked up settled, the more rational it seemed. He couldn't believe he was actually considering it, but Matt took off his glasses and walked back into his office.

"I have to think about this…"

With his door closed, Foggy's words played over and over in his head. Did he want Tessa free or did he want to remember her… in some high-tech, inaccessible penitentiary? That was really hardly a question. He clicked the button on his phone.

"Call Jessica Jones." Saliva filled his mouth, the kind before a retch, as he waited for the other line to pick up. "Tell her we need to talk. Pick me up at church…"

It was long past hours for worship when Matt arrived in the church that night, and yet there were candles flickering against the wall. Prayer candles, thick wax, small flames, and accompanied by some incense, one he didn't recognize. Their source, however, he did. Her heartbeat was one he wouldn't forget. It made his jaw clench the same way this evening, too. She addressed him as soon as he step foot in the aisle.

"Your phones are tapped, Mr. Murdock. I think you know that, but you should really find a way to be more vague before people on my side of things, who are less discerning, can pick up on your code." She paused, assessing him. When she continued, her pulse had picked up minutely. "I hope you're not planning something stupid, like convincing Tessa to erase this whole debacle from living memory. That is too much for her. _And_ it would unravel _many_ _people's_ grasp on reality. Some things are too intrinsic to life to be erased without repercussions."

The changes in intonation, the fluctuations in her voice control were subtle, but Matt caught them all the same. He heard her careful evasion. "I understand now…" he replied quietly, sitting down beside her. "…why she was in love with you, Ms. Romanoff. You're a worse liar than you think. But, don't worry. We weren't planning on risking overloading Tessa's brain with something that world-altering. Just a little excision. … Me."

If she had an emotional reaction to that news, Matt did not sense it. She only quirked her head to the side. "You're planning on telling her to remove you from her life?"

"From everyone's memory of her and me."

"Including your own?"

Matt decided he didn't hear that question. "That way my partner and I can defend her." He couldn't hear that question, couldn’t consider it.

"That's clever, Mr. Murdock… but, she won't do it. She's in love with you."

"She… I… Sh--she can restore it to us once her trial's won."

"You are awfully confident in your ability to clear her in the eyes of the law."

"Her trial is a risk as it is, technically. A witch hunt fed by a media firestorm with no precedent. A lot of noise but no substance… If the argument is compelling enough, the court may be forced to see reason despite the fear-mongering."

"And if not?"

"We'll appeal. This isn't what Stark wanted when he outed her. It should be uncontested by the big players."

The chuckle that bubbled up from Natasha surprised Matt. "You're _adamant_."

"She doesn't deserve this."

"You're in love…" she whispered, like a prayer.

"She _doesn't_ deserve this."

"No. She doesn't. But, can you make the case for her innocence?"

"I only need reasonable doubt."

Silence followed. She was considering him carefully. "Yes," she finally said, standing. "I suppose that is all that you need. Good luck convincing her. Perhaps, Mr. Murdock, start by convincing yourself that this is what you really want, to forget her…"

She was gone, a click, click on the chapel floor and a whiff of spice. The candles burnt down into themselves and Matt sat mulling over an impossible task.


	2. Ghosts

Seeking him out had been one of the hardest things Tessa had ever done, logistically and emotionally. Now, in his sitting room, cup of tea gone cold in her hands, actually explaining her call that day ranked right up there as well. And yet, it was the warmest, the most approachable she'd ever seen him. It was like he already knew. He probably already did know…

"Doctor Strange…"

"Please, Theresa, call me Stephen. These are not the circumstances for formalities. And I do not wish to rush you, but… as they say, time is of the essence in these matters."

He already knew. The teacup was gently removed from her shaking hands. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked. This was patience, this was compassionate patience. Inside his Sanctum, Tessa's mind was the quietest it had been in months and yet it was buzzing too loudly to function. His patience was for naught it seemed. She simply couldn't say it aloud.

"I'm… I've found myself… I need to take…"

"Proactive measures," Strange finished for her with a deep nod. "Yes, you do. The full brunt of the world's terror of anything beyond the mundane will fall down upon you in an avalanche of legal and penal measures. There is nothing we can do to stop that. You're here to ensure you are ready for the onslaught. The question I must ask you to address is this: to what lengths are you willing to go to ensure that you are prepared?"

Tessa's jaw trembled as she answered and yet didn't answer his question. "I need a legal team. I need the best legal team… one I can trust will do everything they can for me…"

"So you do," Strange said quietly and sat back. "And you have one, just a thought away."

He was going to make her say it. He was going to make her admit to its reality.

"They can't help me… not while they remember."

Those icy eyes considered her with something like pity. Then, he stood, pausing in the doorway. "This way, please."

Tessa didn't register moving, didn't notice the stairs or doorways she traversed before sitting again. She was weighing a terrible option. When the reverie ended, the room smelled of books and danced with light from a stain glass window. Doctor Strange was preparing a small chalked circle, mumbling to himself. Time to decide.

"I know this will provide you little solace, but I believe you are making the correct choice here."

"Th--thank you. It doesn't _feel_ right."

"The choices laid before you do not offer what is purely 'right' this time… You've chosen the best one, or so I see it to be." He stood back and a breeze moved Tessa's hair into her eyes. A breeze indoors. "In reality, you are yet again taking a bullet for our community in this. For that you must be commended. It would be so easy for you to step aside, metaphorically, and be forgotten again. So, yes, I believe yours is the best choice. No one would deny you that. Not even Stark, who, as much of a selfish, myopic narcissist as he is, did not intend this for you. In fact, I am quite sure he will work to have you cleared of charges in his own way. Beyond my assistance today I am even willing to set aside my impartiality in such affairs and testify on your behalf. The people need to know how crucial you are to the mystical balance of the world now, and to their own sanity."

Tessa swallowed the last of the moisture in her mouth as he waved her into the circle. She sat, cross-legged, as Strange did.

"Now… Am I protecting anyone from this revision?" It was with a different eye that he looked at her then. It knew the answer before she answered.

"Just… Matt Murdock…"

The corner of his mouth ticked just once. "Very well. I will help you direct and amplify your influence, you will apply it. Do you have it perfect, front and back? Is it a reality to you?"

She nodded. His eyes snapped shut.

"Good. This will take several hours…"

… … … …

Her body felt like she'd run a marathon each of the four nights before. The knocks, loud enough to move the glass of water on her bedside table, were a secondary concern to Tessa. The primary one was falling back asleep and escaping this reality she no longer welcomed as her own. Sleep was a fleeting quarry, however. The knocks were now bangs. Persistent blows, rattling the walls of the apartment. A soft padding of bare feet found their way beside Tessa's bed. Jess.

"Tess, babe. They're here."

This was her reality now. Forever.

Tessa submitted herself to the SWAT-clad squad of police, or national guardsmen, or whatever caliber of peace-keeping professional they sent to arrest her. They read her some rights in monotone voices, shoving her forward with sticks or guns. Not a one of them would touch her. She muddled along in a heavy-lidded haze. Theresa Beth Bisho was a known threat to national security and the nation at large now. The entity known as Mnemosyne was a criminal in federal custody now. Tessa was merely a defendant represented by Nelson and Murdock now.

This was it. This was her life now.

 

Inmate 001e, Dr. Theresa Bisho looked small and defeated as she sat in the interview room later that day. The grey jumpsuit hung loosely on her frame and her eyes were firmly fixed on the handcuffs in front of her. Her body posture was stiff and shut off, her demeanor reticent. To an outside observer, she seemed horribly guilty. In reality, Tessa, _his_ Tessa, was something far worse than guilty. She was broken. But, she hid the cracks and crumbling pieces well enough, with something like a passive acceptance of her situation. At times, she was even blasé.

Foggy definitely seemed to think her indifferent. He was becoming frustrated. "Dr. Bisho, you do realize you really aren't making our jobs any easier with that stunt last night, don't you?"

"I think my absolute honesty weighs in my favor. I was being helpful by restoring his memory." Her voice was flat, yes, but not apathetic. It was just masking the pain wavering below.

"Yeah, but did you have to do it for an ex US senator?"

"I thought his notoriety and that of his mental deterioration would help. How should I have known that he would blurt out something like that? It's not my fault he has loose lips and a dark past."

"Well, now the director of the CIA's probably gunning for you."

"Maybe his organization shouldn't have ruined Mr. Palmer's memory on purpose… I'm not at fault."

Foggy sighed. "Matt, help me out here?"

Help him? How? But the charade needed to be maintained. Matt needed to be her attorney and that was all. Composure cemented, heart-rate and voice carefully controlled, he leaned forward. "We need your cooperation, Dr. Bisho, your _full_ cooperation, please, from now on. Resist acting without our advisement and, for your sake, _heed our counsel_ …"

"Of course, yes. I'll cooperate from now on," she said, words small and ragged.

That was all Foggy needed to hear. He closed his notepad and switched gears. "Great. With regret and ignorance of consequences we may be able to get you moved out of supermax high security… _maybe_. The powers that be are in talks with Stark and the other brainiacs trying to design some kind of inhibitor for you, if that's even possible. With one of those doodads, you might get out on bail and house arrest. Hang in there, Dr. Bisho."

He was already at the door. Matt had to pry himself from the chair. Every movement was a conscious, concerted effort. Leaving without saying goodbye was the hardest part. They were halfway down the hall before Matt realized he had left his recorder. Pausing and checking his coat, for appearances, he nodded at Foggy.

"I'll be right back."

He left him sighing. The walk back was faster, like going downhill. He had to remember there were cameras in this place, focus on the little electric buzzing from their power relays. Tessa was still seated, the recorder growing warm in her hands. There were tears in her voice when she spoke.

"You forgot this, counselor."

The cameras were watching, lenses zooming in on the recorder in her hand. Matt had to make it convincing. He was blind, after all. There was no possibility for a smooth hand off, no way he would be able to leave this room without touching her. There was some small, bitter satisfaction in that, but he had to keep his composure intact. Even through the wave of memories that flooded his consciousness from just her fingertip. He had to keep from shivering as she poured her pain and misery into him, as she dwelt on their now distant, happy moments, as she silently apologized. All in the span of seven seconds, as Matt pretended to feel for the recorder in her hand.

At least he felt her pulse one more time. As he hurried back down the hall, it occurred to him that there was no way to know when or even if he would ever have the pleasure of doing so again. It made him sick, as did the sound of her sobs echoing in that metal box, sneaking through the air vents, following him out. They would haunt him.

For days the sound would haunt him. He would wake up in a cold sweat, Tessa's choked gasps ringing in his ears. The first day, he reached for her, but, of course, the bed was cold and empty. The next few mornings he would merely head for the shower. It didn't matter the time, he needed the hot water to steam away the ghosts. But even so, they would follow him.

During the days, they returned. Every time the phone rang, Matt felt them over his shoulder. Another call from the penitentiary. Another attack on their client. Another strong suggestion from the warden that they petition her to be moved. She was a lightning rod. But Tessa remained unharmed, her record remained spotless. Every attempt by the other inmates to hurt her simply glanced off of her. She endured, seemingly indifferent. But really, prison was an even more difficult environment for her, it was always bound to be. Secrets were currency behind bars and she had the skeleton key to their accounts. By the fourth day, though, the calls stopped coming. Karen even checked in, just in case. Word had gotten around and the inmates had figured out Tessa was invincible. So, instead of attacking her, they resorted to avoiding her at all costs. At least, she would have some quiet outside her mind now.

Matt was in the middle of dictating a motion to return Tessa's second skin to her when the phone rang again. He had to fight not to hold his breath as Karen took the message. She was unusually upbeat at the end of the call, though, so Matt ended his dictation and stepped out of his office.

"Everything alright?"

"Y--yes, actually. I… I just need to find the firm's account and routing numbers. They're… they're here somewhere." She was shuffling through her desk drawers.

Foggy had emerged, too. "Bank info for what? Are we being foreclosed upon or something? I can't handle that today…"

"No. No, quite the opposite. Stark has decided to sponsor Dr. Bisho's defense. We--we're about to be flush with money." She was punching buttons hurriedly, dialing back. "I just have to give them the info…"

Foggy rushed Matt, grabbing his arm and dragging him into his office. "Okay, I don't want to jinx anything, but… that's the second bit of good news in one day."

"What? You just said you couldn't handle--"

"I know what I said. I was _trying_ not to jinx it."

Matt took a deep breath. Foggy's good news was not Matt's kind of good news. He had to manage expectations. "What were you trying not to jinx?"

"I got a call from the US Attorney's office. She's willing to postpone discovery, and have Dr. Bisho arraigned immediately. She's gunning for a plea bargain, I think. She's got to know this'll be a clusterfuck. So, we may have a real chance of getting Bisho out on bail in the next day or so. The fed isn't going to eat her alive, she isn't hungry for this, Matt. That's _good_ news."

 _Good_ news would be that charges had been withdrawn. Matt couldn't hide his disappointment, he failed to smother the sigh just this once. "Yeah, good news, Foggy."

"That was lackluster at best, Murdock! You should be excited. Please, _please_ don't tell me you have a soft spot for her! Oh, god, you do. What have I said? Pretty girl, questionable standing. It's your kryptonite, man… and means somewhere along the line, this case is gonna bite me in the ass."

"It's not that, Foggy. This case…" was ripping his life apart… was stealing something precious from him… "… just deeply disturbs me."

"Yeah, it's disturbing! It's disturbing what's happening to her, and that's why we're, literally _, on the case_. It'll be fine. She'll be fine and then you can pursue her against my good judgment. Although… to be honest, if you don't, I will. And I'm only warning you of this out of courtesy to you and your disability and because you brought us this _lucrative_ case."

Matt swayed as Foggy slapped him on the shoulder. His heart just wasn't in it, he couldn't joke back. "Yeah… okay, Foggy. Thanks… for the heads-up."

There was a giant breath, Foggy trying to decide whether to push Matt or not. Apparently, he decided on 'not'. Within a few moments, Matt was alone with his ghosts again.

 


	3. The Perks of Being an Asset

Tessa hadn't seen another living soul in three days. Not unless you count live televised images. On the Raft, there weren't other inmates to bother her. She was its only occupant as of yet, its first official prisoner. Goody. And the guards weren't allowed to approach within sight of her. Somehow the system had gotten it in their minds that her powers were sight-based. Funny that. They thought that by keeping her physically out of her arraignment, out of court proceedings in general, they were keeping her from influencing matters. How wrong they were. The only thing keeping Tessa on the straight and narrow was Tessa.

Interestingly enough, no one bothered to correct them on their assumption. Not even the Stark representative that strongly advised against stripping her of her second skin, back in the super-max on dry land. It was almost hilarious. They had taken away the one thing that actually helped dampen her powers, thinking it would confine her. How little they understood of her nature. She considered telling them, but that would hardly do her any good. Then, they would trust her less and fear her more.

So, she kept it to herself and waited. She sat in the furthest corner of her cell, debilitated by the influx of pain and hatred and sorrow around her. Distance did her no favors. In the middle of the Atlantic, under water, but without her second skin, she still might as well have been in a screaming mosh pit. It was her whole life, tuning out the memories bombarding her from every direction, keeping her body there and not phasing to someplace quieter like the moon. By the end of the first day she began screaming. She would shout from waking hour to lights out, just trying to drown it all out. No one ever came, no one ever answered. But she knew they heard her, she heard herself in their minds.

Finally, someone did come. It was a guard she didn't recognize. She wore the most ridiculous helmet Tessa had ever seen. In an instant, Tessa knew it was to protect her mind from her. It was failing.

"Doc Bisho. You have a visitor. Come with me."

Tessa's legs were like spaghetti beneath her. She hadn't walked this distance in what felt like weeks.

"Aren't you glad you're not in Ryker's now?" Prison guard Sherryl was nonchalant about the obvious torment Tessa had just endured for 72 hours straight. She was chatting with her like they were doing Tessa a favor by keeping her here. "No visiting hours in super-max."

Tessa considered asking if Sherryl was glad she had cheated on her psych exam, but decided that was really only self-destructive, and followed her through into the visitor-friendly cell in silence. This holding unit was also pristine, brand spanking new, and the room on the other side of its glass eerily empty. Not a soul in sight, until Magneto-helmeted Sherryl escorted in  Tessa's two guests. Wanda and Vision approached her cell and stopped behind the plate glass window, distant from one another, not speaking or even looking at each other. Trouble persisted outside these walls. It was obvious immediately, she didn't need to check. They were cooperating for her sake, on the same side for this one thing. Tessa appreciated that, though wished her friends didn't feel obliged to send representatives for their two warring factions.

Sherryl thought she was really witty. "Well, would you look at that. _Two_ visitors. You got ten minutes."

The door sealed with a hiss behind Sherryl and Tessa headed for the glass. Three real live people-- if you counted Vision which she did --in under ten minutes. This day was just a whole barrel of treats. Wanda sat on the bench provided as Tessa sunk to the floor, clearly tried not to frown.

"I didn't expect to see either of you in here--I don't know who I expected, but it wasn't you, much less together… Don't you have better things to be doing? Like fighting each other?"

Wanda sighed, but didn't even glance Vision's way. "Your spell almost worked. You were almost safe… I am sorry I broke it. I am responsible, that is why I'm here… as is Vision. Your spell would have worked were it not for us."

"What spell? I didn't cast any spell." Tessa felt suddenly exhausted. She slumped down into herself and squeezed the bridge of her nose. She hadn't been keeping herself locked down for days to be undone by Wanda's eccentric metaphors. "Can we hurry this up? It's incredibly loud in here."

"They took your dampening suit?" Wanda's eyes were sad as they skated over Tessa, just barely glowing red. Beside her Vision stood abruptly, muttering something Tessa could not hear. It was with her eyes downcast that Wanda responded to him. "There is nothing we can do now, Vision… not without risking Tessa's good standing. Tessa, I meant the spell you cast when you made us forget you… That was very clever."

"It wasn't a spell. I just… willed it to happen… poorly, apparently."

"The strongest magic is to bend reality, I've found. It is also the most tenuously maintained. One crack and…" Wanda snapped her fingers, a shower of red dust accompanying it. "Again, I apologize… Have you seen your lawyers?"

The lump in Tessa's throat almost choked her. "Yes. Two of them. Young, probably incompetent, but at least Jess convinced _someone_ to take my case." Lies. Lies so dense they stuck in her teeth. "Why?"

"Have you seen them recently?"

She sat forward, wary. "No… why?"

"There has been a development. I assume they are preparing and that is why they have not spoken to you yet today… perhaps they are before a judge arguing for it now… Vision, would you care to explain?"

He sat as well, leaning towards the glass with pain somehow written all over his face "I have pinpointed the organic frequency of your mnemomancy. A disruptor is being fabricated as we speak. Expectations are that with it employed you might await trial under house arrest."

"Fantastic. Why the glum faces?"

Vision winced slightly. "It will render your powers inert."

"Again, fantastic, sign me up. Get me out of this nightmare."

He only looked at her, again the perfect replication a very human expression, from knitted brow to slightly down-curved mouth. Tessa just didn't know what that pity meant. Wanda gently patted his hand and he continued.

"You will still be monitored, a constant security presence. You will have no access to technology and your visitors with be regulated and restricted to pre-screened individuals… and you will be completely powerless."

Tessa wasn't getting it. What was the kicker? "Will I be alive?"

"Yes."

"Will I be mentally lucid?"

"Yes."

"Then, again, fantastic. Sign me up faster."

"The people will still fear you."

"I wouldn't expect anything different."

Wanda sighed. "Their fear will affect our ability to help you. We're trying to quell their fear… of all of us. I'm sorry, Tessa… so sorry… it's my fault--"

"Wanda. Please…" Vision glanced between the two of them, baleful but stoic.  "We must act as the situation demands it. Some things cannot be controlled, despite our best efforts. … Tessa, the procedure will occur tomorrow. Hopefully, by then--"

Tessa knew the rules and yet she was standing. "The procedure?!" She half-wailed as Sherryl stepped in behind her and shoved her back onto the floor. There it was. The catch. Fear surged through Tessa's body. Her control felt hair thin.

Wanda was talking, face drawn into a frown. "…must be surgically implanted. Vision will perform it."

"A surgery?" Her words were shuddered by clacking teeth. Her whole body was shivering. "Is it permanent?"

"For so long as the disruptor is activated."

It started at her fingertips, the too familiar feeling of losing control. Her chest was tight, breaths too shallow and too fast. The last time Matt had been there, had breathed with her until she could see straight again. This time it was just Sherryl.

"Another… another scar… another--"

Tessa was wrenched away from the glass and Sherryl dragged her from the room. "Time's up. That's enough. Bisho has to go now."

The glass shimmered, dulling to opacity as Tessa was hauled away. She watched it's grey ripples snap shut. Tinny and small, Wanda's voice poured out from it past it. "Hopefully, this is your last night here, Tessa. Stay calm, we'll be…"

… … … …

It had been a long morning of red tape and mind numbing procedurals. Some of them were handling it better than others. Some of them being Matt and Foggy and the others being Jessica. She had started out upbeat for her, anxious to see Tessa. All that nervous energy was soon funneled into impatient sarcasm. Admittedly, the bureaucracy they had to wade through to bring Tessa home was extensive. Perhaps over-extensive.

There had been packet after packet of paperwork to process. They had to agree to liability after liability, acknowledge multiple disclaimers and agree to restrictions that lasted several pages in length each. It was a nightmare, and Matt and Foggy dealt with legal small print like this for a living. Tessa was their ward, they were legally responsible for her upon her release. Her house arrest was contingent upon x, y, z, and omega. Screening qualifications for the three of them went back to their school records. The rules for her seven approved visitors were bound in a novel-sized packet.

It took hours and it plucked at Jessica's last nerve. Matt had felt it eat away at her patience. By the time they were finally escorted to the release atrium, she was grinding her teeth and sweating like she had just run a mile. It must have been difficult for her to conceal her augmented physique in situations like this. He'd certainly never noticed before she flew. In any case, she was on the verge of being kicked out of the building before they brought out Tessa.

"But, like, is she allowed _canned_ tuna, or does it have to be from a safety pouch? You know, with no sharp edges?"

The guard escorting them was chewing nicotine gum but reeked of cheap menthols. She was probably not the person to ask satirical questions of. With a sharp smack of that gum, she pointed across them and to a group of chemical soaked plastic seats. "Wait over there. I'll be right out with Bisho's chair."

"Chair? What?" Jessica was very serious with these questions.

Matt joined her. "Why does Dr. Bisho have a chair?"

The guard paused, scoffing, "did they not tell you? I swear… Bisho can't walk for another twenty four hours."

"Why can't she walk for another twenty four hours?" Jessica's voice was tight, worry pouring from her. Unfortunately, neither of them had an answer for her. Matt wished he did. All he had was a handful of assumptions and none of them made him feel any less livid.

They waited in complete silence, the anxiety in the room boiling. Matt heard the chair before either of the other two saw it. His skin felt clammy as he listened to its approach, the soft squeak, the softer wheezing breaths. Tessa was either hardly conscious or heavily drugged in the wheelchair. Jessica gasped as the door opened, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth. The smell hit Matt like a truck. The skin on his knuckles was too tight, cracked and pulled as he clenched his cane harder.

"Holy Jesus…" Foggy muttered under his breath and then stood. Jessica followed suit, her footsteps hesitant as the wheels came to a stop. Matt kept sitting, his face forward, blank. He could not react. He couldn't.

Tessa was groggy when she spoke. "Thank god you guys are here. Straightjacket is not a good color on me…" Heavily drugged.

Matt forced a smile and Foggy beside him a chuckle as Jessica stumbled over to awkwardly embrace her.

"Chica. Sight for sore eyes you are. Come on, let's get you home… I have so much to tell you."

The air smelled like panic as they followed Jessica out to the security gate. It was full of heartbeats pounding like house music, had the tang of stress sweat. Foggy kept pulling at his collar and Matt agreed, he was having a hard time breathing as well. Jessica plowed straight ahead wheeling Tessa away, her stride like someone trying not to run and just barely succeeding. Matt couldn't blame her. This was a situation he wished they could escape. His cane caught on the lip of a floor mat and he realized he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. As he paused in a doorway, Foggy grabbed his elbow and began whispering frantically under his breath.

"What the hell, Matt? What--what is… I--I thought… Ross's people didn't say _anything_ about cutting her head open to do it… We endorsed this, Matt. This is on us… What the fuck!?"

"We were intentionally misinformed, I believe, Foggy." He tapped ahead slowly, clearing his throat to mask the fact that his voice was shaking.

"Her… her whole head is wrapped in gauze. What could they have done t--to need all that?"

"I can't tell yet. All I can smell is a blanket of antiseptic and blood."

"Oh, Christ… I hope they didn't lobotomize her… Talk about proactive practice. We might as well forego the trial altogether. They've neutralized her as a threat."

"No… They still need to make an example of her… I doubt it's permanent. I imagine it's so they can control her power. She's poised to become the face of regulated, supervised, Accords-compliant, _government_ - _deployed_ superheroes. They wouldn't squander that kind of _asset_ … and we led her right into this position." That feeling, the one that scared him, that struggled right under the surface cold and hot at the same time, it was begging to be let out. It was broad daylight and they were in the middle of a heavily surveillanced area, and Matt had no one to blame but himself. So, it stayed caged, scratching and frothing.

Foggy scoffed, "I bet you Stark planned this the whole damn time…"

"Maybe," Matt muttered but kept his actual opinion to himself. They were within earshot of the car, no time for more speculating.

Jessica had already loaded Tessa into the back and stowed the wheelchair in the trunk. The seatbelt was giving her trouble, but she climbed out and tried from the other door as they approached. Matt folded up his cane and slid in beside Tessa without thinking. Jessica seemed to hesitate as he did, but eventually conquered the buckle and sat next to him. Matt didn't realize until then the misstep he'd made, taking the seat next to Tessa. He should have waited, taken the far seat, or sat in the front. He was just her lawyer after all. He didn't need to sit beside her and hold her hand. That was Jessica's place. And yet, there he was.

From the front, Foggy asked, "how're you feeling, Tessa?"

"Like a pistachio shell," she groaned and then laid her head on Matt's shoulder.

On his other side, Jessica flinched. "Uh, sorry…" She tried to reach across him. "I think she's been sedated…"

 "She's fine. Let her rest. Not bothering me at all…"

Jessica relaxed and sat back. But Matt had lied. It did bother him, what he saw and felt in vivid detail for the rest of the ride. And the bars of the cage inside him were pried a little farther apart.


	4. Do You Make House Calls?

Somehow, confinement under house arrest turned out to be a much more grueling experience than full detention on the Raft.

Not 'somehow'… anyone and everyone involved knew exactly what made it so much more distressing. The disruptor wasn't perfect. In fact, it was far from perfect. The problem with that estimation fell under the loophole of semantics, however. Technically speaking, the disruptor performed its function adequately. It _disrupted_ Tessa from manipulating and willingly accessing memories. Most of the time. There were those outlying occasions, though, when things bled through. When they did, Tessa was left blindsided, struggling to cope with the intrusions without her usual control over them.

And then there was the feedback. Her own past was forced back upon her on repeat and at random. Electrical surges jolted into action, accomplishing nothing but quietly sizzling at her consciousness. A memory would pull Tessa to its location and her body would half-phase to it, only to be jarred back in starbursts of concussive force and agony. Like driving a car into a concrete wall, except it was her mind.

The continual trauma took its toll. The mildest of it resulted in sleepless nights, almost every night. Tessa would wake screaming, from terror and pain. It would take many minutes, sometimes hours to calm her. During the day, it was less acute but more insidious. She would freeze mid-act, as if she'd short-circuited. A few coaxing minutes later and she would be left disoriented and confused. At its worst, the feedback left her at the brink of violent psychosis. Jess would have to hold her down to keep her from ripping her hair out, or jumping out the window. There was a fire in the kitchen when she poured oil onto the lit stove. And there were at least four times when Jess thought Tessa had legitimately lost her mind. She constantly feared she would purposefully hurt herself. Jess felt like time was moving backwards, like no progress had been made. It was a nightmare.

And when she was lucid, Tessa was heart-breaking. She knew what was happening to her and confessed to it, like it was her own fault. One day, she stopped her six-hour stare out of the window to tell Jess she couldn't recall Natasha's face, or her own bachelor's thesis. Another evening, she admitted that she couldn't always tell what was real and wasn't. Disturbingly quickly, weight dropped from her. She became even smaller and shrunken, her skin lost luster and her hair lay flat, limp and thin. There was no doubt she had become deeply depressed, and that was Jess's optimistic conclusion.

Finally, Jess had to get a second opinion.

Matt had been receiving the calls from Jessica with gradually lessening composure. That day's call was less of a status update, however, and left the whole office frazzled. Karen left the phone off the hook, pulled Matt into the reception area without warning. As she frantically groped for the conference button, Foggy's blood pressure sky rocketed.

"O--okay, Jess, you're on speaker."

"Come over. Now. There's something wrong with her."

Ten minutes later, the three of them had joined Jessica in her living room, dumbfounded. The woman standing on the coffee table was entirely unrecognizable.

"I don't know what to do," Jessica breathed. "She's been doing this for hours."

"Have you tried getting her down?"

"I'm scared to try…"

They all flinched as Tessa laughed loudly. The phone in Jessica's hand crumpled and Foggy almost knocked over a chair, but Tessa didn't notice any of that. She just kept having the conversation with someone who wasn't really there.

"Who's Knievel?" Karen wondered aloud after a few minutes of listening.

"You know, Evel Knievel… It's a nickname, for someone reckless probably. I'm betting Clint Barton, her last… relationship, I guess you'd call it."

 _Wrong_.

"Like… a _daredevil_?"

 _Right_. But Matt wasn't in a position to be jealous, to have any reaction at all to those conclusions, especially not to respond to the loaded tone of Foggy's comment. "You can't get her to come out of it?"

Jessica shook her head and then remembered to respond verbally. "No, I've tried a bunch of stuff… everything short of slapping her. Her head's still… I, uh, I change the dressing regularly, three sometimes four times a day, but…" She didn't have to say it. Matt was pretty sure everyone could smell the rotting flesh.

"Aren't we more advanced than this by now?!" Foggy threw his hands into the air. "What happened to microsurgery, to minimally invasive stuff?!"

"Not enough for installing a fucking electrical circuit board, I guess," Jessica mumbled.

Matt had to turn away at that point. "We need to report this to someone."

"Who? The people who did this to her? I'm pretty sure they know about it already, what with her having a router in her head, and they seem fine with it. If it were malfunctioning, they'd have somebody in here to fix it. National security on the line and all… No, I'm pretty sure this is exactly how they want her."

As they had been talking, Karen had been inching towards the couches. Jessica flopped down onto a chair and suggested to her weakly that she try shaking the tin with the marbles in it again. During the ruckus that followed, Jessica walked into the kitchen. As she passed Matt and Foggy, she whispered, "I have someone in mind." Then, added in full voice, "you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you… We need to get back to the office… look into if this is actionable or not. Karen?"

She joined them at the door, wringing her hands. "Tessa… h--her eyes aren't purple anymore…"

 

That night, Jess was especially appreciative of her PI skills. Here they were coming in handy again. Because, man, did this guy not want to be found. Tough fucking corn nuts, though. There was absolutely nothing that was going to get in her way when it came to Tess. Nothing. The place looked like something out of the Addam's Family and, sitting smack dab in the middle of Greenwich Village, stuck out likewise. The neighbors probably hated it. It was weird as fuck, just like him.

Jess took the stairs up to the porch of the townhouse two at a time. She didn't have time to be discrete. This was a bust in the front door if she had to kind of situation. That wouldn't be necessary, though. When she knocked, the door just kind of… opened on its own. Jessica stepped inside, peering around. The hairs on the back of her neck were trying to eject themselves from their follicles.

"Jeez, it's even got the eerie, self-opening door," she muttered, trying not to freak the fuck out.

"Close the door. Quickly."

Jess freaked the fuck out, then. She shut the door, but only after almost jumping out of her skin. She hadn't noticed him standing on the stairs.

"What are you doing here, Ms. Jones?"

She edged into the sitting room he waved her towards, just waiting for something inanimate to jump up and start walking and talking. "Uh… I'm here because of Tessa."

"Yes, obviously, but don't you think that's putting her at risk?"

"You're a doctor, right? A magic doctor? She's sick, she needs some help… from a doctor… some secret, magical help from a magic doct--"

"Yes, yes, I understand. Please, make yourself at home. I will see what I can do."

He turned to leave, but Jess jumped up from an alarmingly hard sofa. "Wait! What're--"

"Don't follow me."

She mirrored his two steps and his eyes, oddly bright in the low light, flashed back to glare at her.

"Well, obviously, I'm going to follow you now…"

"You'll interrupt the--fine," he exhaled in exasperation. "Come with me. You can… show me around."

Ten minutes later, Jess was neck deep in what looked to be satanic worship and was seriously regretting her dogged curiosity. "Uh…? What's up, doc?"

Strange shook his head, confirming the fact that he had zero capacity for humor. That was going to prove unfortunate, since Jess made bad jokes when she was anxious. "I'm going to separate our consciousnesses from our bodies and project them onto the astral plane. From there, we can travel to Tessa and observe her state undetected. Try not to squirm. This will be unpleasant."

He wasn't lying. That whole separating mind from body shit was pretty much one of the most unpleasant things Jess had ever experienced, and she'd been in a coma and a victim of mind control before. It felt like her brain had been unzipped and all the beans had been yanked out. It worked, though. All of a sudden, she was literally having an out of body experience, she was floating above herself.

"Far out, man…"

Strange cut his weird, translucent soul eye at her. "Perhaps this will be a non-speaking trip."

Jess gave a nervous chuckle but didn't say anything back. She wanted to be let back into her body eventually. Strange resumed whatever weird little ritual he was incanting and, before she knew it, they were in her apartment. Tessa had stopped her time-slip conversation and was now staring catatonically at the ceiling. Dr. Strange floated gracefully down to the floor beside her while Jess tried desperately just to not spin away in the zero gravity.

"Oh, Theresa… what have they done to you?"

Jess managed to breaststroke down to him as Strange peered around Tessa. "What's the diagnosis?"

"This _thing_ they put in her has cloven her entire psychic essence in two. Her mind, if you will, is rejecting Emeoune. That device is hampering the interaction between the two of them, their _symbiotic_ interaction, the thing keeping the two of them alive. If we allow it to continue, it may progress beyond merely hampering, it may permanently sever their bond…"

"Which would…?" Jess wasn't literally attached to her body, but she had felt it go cold as he spoke. She had a feeling what he meant, but some things just needed to be spelled out, especially before she decided to full-on panic.

"Assuredly kill them both."

And there it was. Full-on panic. Jess gasped and suddenly found herself in her body again, her sweating, shaking body. "W--what are you going to do?"

Strange stood, brushing the dust from his pant leg, and looked down at her with aplomb. "Stop it, obviously. Are you just going to sit there? This way."

Scrambling to her feet, Jess tottered down the stairs behind him, trying to follow what he was saying. It was a lot of mumbo-jumbo to her, though.

"Have you teleported before?"

"Uh… Tess phased me with her a few times--"

"This is entirely different. You will feel physically ill. Prepare for that. Take this."

Jess accepted the pouch of fragrant herbs he held out to her and then continued following him as he searched the shelves of a room that hadn't been there two seconds before. "Okay… but won't it look suspicious, me not leaving your house?"

He scoffed. "I sent an imago of you down the street when you arrived. It is petitioning for signatures for Theresa's trial to be dismissed."

"That… doesn't make legal sense…"

"I'm sorry…" Strange turned, condescension visible on his face. "Was that too out of character for you?"

"No," she snorted, "but, still…"

There was moment where she was worried he'd poof her onto the moon or something, but then he kept on. "I will have to conceal us as we enter, that concealment will only apply to our visual forms, so--"

"I'll keep my trap shut…"

"Precisely… I will also have to enchant something to maintain the illusion that the device is operative. A… mimetic charm… Hmm. Does she have anything that she keeps on her person at all times? A necklace perhaps, or--"

"She wears earrings…"

Strange snapped shut the book he'd been scanning, creating a plume of dust. "Perfect. She must never remove the one I enchant or the spell will be broken… and this is only tenable for so long as they use the device for monitoring her. When they attempt to… deploy her and her gifts, then too the illusion will be shattered."

"This is a temporary measure?" Jess knew temporary measures. She had used them, and found them wanting. Usually, they just made a bigger mess when they wore off. It was the permanent ones that stuck, that she trusted in now.

He nodded, eyes far away above her head. Thin fingers stroked his chin as he continued, speaking mostly to himself. "I'll have to cast sleep over her. When she wakes, this development will have to be communicated to her. You can do that, just pass her the memory by touch… It would be best done as she's waking, so she has time to process it before she can react and expose the deception. Yes, that is my recommendation."

"Uh, Strange? What happens when the deception is exposed?"

"We can only do one thing at a time, Ms. Jones. Saving their lives is paramount at the moment… Preserving them will… come… later. I wonder. Perhaps it would serve to offer an olive branch to T'Challa? Or possibly Stark will see reason? No, that's ludicrous… Banner, however, or better, Helen…"

"Doc? Back to the paramount part?"

"Stop asking questions," he snapped and then began jogging down the stairs that they were suddenly back on. A flight down he stopped again abruptly.

He'd just told her not to, but Jess had to ask why he was stock still out of nowhere. "What is it?"

"There was a disturbance…"

"… in the Force?"

He cut his eyes at her and then took off again. "It has passed."

Magic made Jess feel like she was in the middle of allergy season. Her head was full of cotton and the world was a blurry mess. It was difficult to focus on things as they hazed over and then sharpened randomly. Weirder, the air was too thick and shimmered, like could happen over asphalt on a hot day. After teleporting, it was all a little too much, so Jess slumped on her couch and breathed in the thick spice from the herbal pouch Strange had given her. She was barely tuned in enough to notice exactly what he was doing to help Tessa. Whatever it was, she only caught glimpses of his hybrid operation as her head reeled and she struggled to remain completely silent. It was fast though, and after only a few minutes she found herself standing, head de-clouded, in a sketchy ass alleyway three blocks from her building.

"It's finished. She should recover within the half-hour…" Jess couldn't see Dr. Strange, but there was no doubt it was him talking in her head. "There should be a solution to the remaining problem within the day."

She gave a tight little nod and pulled out her phone. There was work to be done.

"It's probably about time I just put him on my frequent contacts list," she mumbled to herself, scrolling to 'Mr. Big Shot.'

"It's late, girl, you know how I feel about booty calls."

"Stop wailing on whoever you've got pinned in a walk-in freezer, or whatever it is tonight, and get over to Hell's Kitchen… I need some help. And bring Glow Stick. This might be easier with some mystical insight…"

 


	5. Grommet for Your Thoughts?

Exactly Two Hours After Discovering the Atrocity Done to Tessa Was for Some Bat-Shit Crazy Reason Not Actionable:

"This is wrong, Matt, I know. And you're a little sweet on her, I get it… but this isn't the way to go about taking care of this…" Foggy had followed him from the offices, doggedly refusing to let him out of his sight. He was still just standing there, yapping at him as Matt pulled out the chest from his wardrobe.

"… I mean, they're big time. They're… they're actual _super_ -people. I love you, man, and you impress the hell out of me constantly, but… you're a guy in a costume with excellent hearing and some serious Irish tenacity. That's great, excellent qualities for getting crime off the streets, but superheroes? You don't have gamma irradiated invincibility or… anything like that. Your suit's badass now, yes, but it doesn't shoot lasers or let you fly into orbit. You… you picking up what I'm laying down?"

Matt hung his suit jacket on the wardrobe door and began stripping down. With a frustrated sigh, Foggy crossed his arms and turned around. "You are one stupid, stubborn bastard, Matt," he commented to the windows.

"Someone needs to put things back into perspective for them, Foggy… They're so worried about their responsibilities to the world, their roles and boundaries as a community on a global scale. Big picture stuff… important issues, yes, but it's making them overlook the violations in their own home. I have no problem being the one to remove those blinders for them…"

"Yeah, but, Matt… you're not getting it. They could _kill_ you…"

"I'd like to see them try."

"Oh my god."

That evening Matt was going to take a little field trip out of the Kitchen. Tessa's brain was rotting and the bars of the cage inside his soul were bent to cracking. It was time to open it and Matt knew just where to unleash it.

As it happened, there was to be an audience to his confrontation. They were staked out a few buildings away from Stark plaza, all eyes on the Tower. There was little question that they were the Captain's people. Matt didn't recognize either of them. One had an advanced fuel on his person that Matt couldn't peg. It was feeding to the quietly humming pack on his back. The other had a heart like a snare drum, nerves. And there was a whiff of something chemical on him, organic, maybe a pheromone but not human. They were loaded down with tech, too, and had been out on their perch for a while. Spying on the opposition, what a waste of time. Matt barged right past them.

"Whoa, man, wait! Vision holds down the fort while Stark's away!" One of them called out after him.

"I know… I'm here to see this _Vision_."

They didn't try to follow, though they considered it. Gear revved up and then powered down. Matt was glad for it, too. This was his conversation to have. He didn't want to share it with the superhero feud. Unfortunately, he would have to share it in some regard. It was a lovers' quarrel he was dropping in on.

A woman and the android, tempers high were already breaking the post-dusk hush with strained tones. They were not shouting, but their words were wracked with fiery emotions. Apparently, Matt wasn't the only one with super-senses, however. The woman stopped speaking mid-sentence a few seconds before Matt even landed behind them. There was a pause as the two of them assessed him and then she sighed.

"Ah. It is the guard dog of Hell's Kitchen." His reputation preceded him. Good. "Our conflict does not concern you, Devil. We have not trespassed on your _territory_ … Be gone."

"Actually, you're dead wrong there. It does concern me, because everything's gone to shit since you all decided to put your own problems before everyone else. That's not why I'm here, though… I'm here because this one put something in Mnemosyne's head that is killing her. It's rotting her brain out."

Her breathing slowed and became more deliberate as her pulse quickened. Anger. She looked at the android, his artificial systems humming like an IT lab. If he was having a reaction, only she could see it. A beat passed and then she stepped away.

"Agent Romanoff did warn me that you take Dr. Bisho to be a lonely Angel in your Hell, but I did nothing to harm her." The voice modulated inorganically but so close to human vocal patterns that it made the hair stand up on Matt's neck. It even conveyed sincerity. "The disruptor was designed for her benefit."

Matt scoffed, "so, Stark makes his robots so they can even lie for him, too…"

"Sir, I am no robot." The change was immediate, tone tighter, words more clipped. It even set its shoulders back. It had the audacity to be offended.

"Bullshit. You and your maker have engineered it so that she has to abide by the _vision_ he has for superheroes. You've got a shock collar on her brain to prove you're compliant with the Accords! Doesn't matter if she's a vegetable, as long as she's regulated! As long as she doesn't spoil your track record of keeping our sort in line and media friendly! Can't lose that popularity in the opinion polls!"

As Matt became more incensed, the android seemed to lose interest. It turned, without footsteps, towards the entrance back into the Tower. "I am sorry, but you're mistaken."

Matt's reaction was immediate. The club bounced perfectly off the angle of the building and hit the android square in the forehead. Or, it should have. Matt snatched it from the air a second later, mildly bewildered. His target hadn't moved, except for when the club had _not_ hit him. Then, it had felt not as though it moved out of the way, but rather like it'd ceased to exist. It could de-materialize. Great, that would make this more interesting. At least, Matt had gotten its attention.

"I'm not done talking to you yet!" Matt growled, launching forward.

What followed was not exactly something Matt was proud of. Try as he might, it was basically impossible to land a blow on the thing. It kept dematerializing, or dodging, for every strike. It had been a long time since Matt had felt truly that blind. The lack of solid state physical form and the weird biotech sounds of the android was already throwing his 'sight' off. Add to that its dexterity and Matt was literally swinging at thin air. For what felt like thirty minutes. The cage had been made to hold fast for too long. He didn't just burn out, trying to hit the thing. He became more enraged when he couldn't.

Finally, Matt sensed a pattern, in its movements, in the noises it made. A flip off the wall turned from a missed lunge to a landed roundhouse. He caught it off guard, foot cracking --painfully-- across its very hard face. But a hit was a hit. Matt was crouching to react to whatever the android was planning on reciprocating with at last-- an energy beam, it felt like from the sudden heat to the air --when the woman stepped between them.

"ENOUGH." The heat of the beam dissipated immediately, its strange effect on the atmosphere replaced by a different heat emanating from her. It was simultaneously warm and cold, crackled but made no sound.

Matt could feel it rippling around his skin, taste it in the air. He couldn't move, as much as he tried, his limbs were held still. Magic.

"It should not matter. If he says there might be something wrong with Tessa's implant, you should follow up to check on it regardless. She is our friend. And her condition is _our_ responsibility. The Sorcerer Supreme confirms what the guard dog has said, too. If you do not ensure her safety, Vision, I will never forgive you."

As quickly as she had intervened, the witch's presence was gone. Her heels crunched on gravel as she stalked off. Matt felt the rage ebbing as his arms and legs came unstuck. He clicked his clubs in place and turned to leave. He knew a lost cause when he saw it.

"What symptoms is she experiencing?"

Though, there was always room to learn.

The Next Morning:

It had taken an unfathomable amount of time, what felt like centuries of wandering through a fog-choked maze in the dark, but Tessa opened her eyes to see that day's sunrise within her right mind. She didn't know how long she had been non-lucid, or even how she had gotten to Jess's apartment, but she did know that she had been ill. That she could feel in her sinews, in the way her limbs moved. Everything ached and felt too loose. Worst of all, she could feel the cool, grey patch in her own web of memories. Her head--the incision still throbbed and smelled putrid, but that was secondary to the mangled mess her mind had been.

Cue her silent emotional breakdown.

Jess was asleep, but that didn't mean Tessa had any privacy in which to sob uncontrollably. There would be no secret disgusting wallowing, no allowing her face to become swollen, splotchy and sticky with tears and snot. Instead, her eyes stung as the tears leaked out and her chest was wracked with bursts of pain as she choked back the shuddering gasps. And despite her audience, really it was just her and the couch cushions soaking up her grief. She was lonely and yet not alone, a painful condition when all she wanted was someone to hold her and soothe the tears. Not just someone, but that was a different kind of agony she couldn't deal with that day. So, she curled in a fetal position around that cushion and tried not to draw Luke and Danny's attention.

So far as Tessa could tell, they both had just been there, in the apartment. For the whole night? The whole week? Tessa couldn't know --unless she asked, and she couldn't currently form words, so… not so much an option-- she only knew that they had been there when she came to. Seeing them in the daylight was weird. Seeing pajama man in jeans was weirder.

"That's three aces."

"You are so full of shit."

"Nah, Luke, you say 'Bullshit.' That's… _why_ it's called Bullshit. ... I think."

"I know. And I still prefer to say that you're full of shit. Show me those cards."

Tessa was having a full-on nervous collapse and the punchy twins were playing cards not four feet away at the kitchen table. Maybe they were just being polite, pretending not to notice. Maybe they were just used to this kind of thing. Either way, it wasn't like Tessa could spare them any of the embarrassment of choking on her own snot in front of them, so she just went on ahead soaking the couch cushion with her tears, while they sipped coffee and ribbed on each other.

After a few minutes, Tessa began to appreciate it. It was comforting, life going on like that even when everything was wrong. It gave her some perspective. Her life was a nightmare that she couldn't wake from, sure, but it wasn't _all_ horror and grief. There were still people who would help, who cared enough to go out of their way. They might be new people, but they existed. There were still bad jokes and cheap street food. There was still coffee. While not her usual fare, the smell of it Tessa found incredibly inviting. She sat up and blinked through her puffy eyes to find the pot. 

"You done feeling bad for yourself? Wanna play some cards?"

"Luke, dude, lay off. She's been through a lot."

"I know and so does she. She doesn't need any babying. What'cha say, Tessa?"

"Uh… I dunno about cards, my head's… off, but… coffee. I could do coffee." She found her legs to be wobbly, but they kept her upright. The kitchen wasn't far and she made it without incident. And that was about all she could manage. Luckily, babying or not, Luke was there to help with the actual coffee pouring part.

Danny leaned against the counter on her other side. "He doesn't tiptoe around stuff, but he does care."

Tessa accepted the mug with a small smile. "Thanks. Yeah… A gigantic, no nonsense teddy bear."

"Exactly. Easy on your feet. Jess warned us your head's been giving you trouble." Luke leaned to her right and frowned. "Might wanna change that dressing now, too."

"Ugh. It's gross, isn't it? Sorry…"

"No big deal. We've seen… well, I don't know if what all we've seen is actually comparable to this, but we've seen some horrible stuff. Come on. I'll help."

Tessa leaned away from Danny. "Uh… no offense, but I don't trust you and your glowing hand trick with my broken skull."

He looked almost offended and Luke let out a laugh that shook the dishes. "Danny's harmless, but if you want, I'll help."

"You know…" Tessa looked at the size of his hands and wondered if dexterity was something that came along with windpipe crushing. "I think I'll manage it by myself. Thanks."

Luke snorted, but gave a shrug. "Your choice. But I used to make ships in bottles."

"It's my chi, you know. The glowing." Danny was following her to the couch. "I control it. It doesn't just pop up."

"It's freaky is what it is, but you can hold my mirror, thanks." Tessa winced as she sat down with the giant ziploc of bandages and gauze. "It's time I did some stuff for myself anyway."

"Figured she wouldn't want the hand holding," Luke mumbled, sitting down across from them and turning on the TV.

 Tessa tried not to think of what she saw as herself. She tried to inspect the brownish red, seeping incision in the side of her head with some remnant of the medical objectivity she had been taught while living in the hospital. The pain didn't help that. Neither did the smell. In under a minute, though, she had managed to clean the wound and re-wrap her head. Now to sit back and fight the dizzying panic trying to overwhelm her. Her head, her normally invincible head wasn't healing. Her friends had magically cut into it to block off her access to part of it. It had worked too well and Tessa had lost some chunk of her life. Dr. Strange had shut the device down and now Tessa had to pretend that it was still working. It had to be working because the world was terrified of her and her friends were trying to show they fit in the world by restricting her terrifying-ness. Nightmare.

Before Tessa could fully tumble down that rabbit hole, she was interrupted by a knock. Luke stood immediately, holding up a hand and moving quietly to the front door. Her mind as weak as it was still, Tessa nonetheless recognized the presence on the other side of the door.

"My-- ahem…" Dr. Banner cleared his throat as his knock was answered. "I'm glad to see Dr. Bisho has made some new friends…"

"Dr. Banner, huh? Well… the Hulk, in person. What a surprise… Jess! Superheroes are here!"

Tessa tried leaning around to see Banner, but Luke was blocking the entire door. Beside her, Danny was humming along to a flooring commercial like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "You want a breakfast taco?"

"No, thanks, pajama ninja… not much of an appetite right now… Tell the human wall to let them in, would ya? I'm guessing they've got some work to do. If you don't get in their way, hopefully they won't report me for you two, non-approved visitors…"

"Luke, you heard the little one, you'll get her in trouble if you don't let 'em in."

Scoffing, but still moving aside, Luke gave one more menacing look and then strode back towards Jess's room. In the vacuum of his absence, Banner slowly appeared. He edged inside, taking up as little space as possible, as usual. Wringing his hands for a moment, he set down a small case and then met Tessa's eyes. There was a sadness in his face that she couldn't acknowledge or the tears would start again. He wasn't alone, though. Quietly, seamlessly, Vision stepped inside as well. He, however, did not make eye contact with Tessa. Coming to rest a few paces behind Banner, he busied himself with a few tools and focused entirely on his hands.

"You let me know if you want the glowing hand business," Danny muttered quietly as he moved to the other couch.

It was with a nervous chuckle that Tessa stood and shuffled around the couch. "Something going on, Dr. Banner?"

"Oh, just here to service the disruptor. Normal… maintenance concerns. Ahem. If you'll sit back down, we can take care of this quickly. You see, it has been… _brought to our attention_ that we need to upgrade the device to a more operator-friendly model." He pulled a few pieces of tech out from the case and began tinkering with them. "What with the constant need to access the device, I suggested an external unit, via temple electrodes, so it could be repaired and inspected more readily and maintained more easily by you. Now… Vision will remove the outdated unit."

Tessa felt her body seize up as Vision approached the couch. Banner's easy demeanor as he edged his way over to her, however, had the opposite effect. She still intrinsically trusted him. The sensation of Vision's hand phasing through the side of her head was something she wished she could forget. Like being touched by a ghost, but that ghost reached inside her and yanked out with the thing that had been making her brain squirm. As he passed back out of her skull with the disruptor, his hand knocked free the earring from Tessa's ear. When the pieces dropped to her shoulder and then the couch, a small breeze left her hair fluttering against her cheek. Before Tessa could react properly to what had just happened, Vision was across the room and Banner was gently attaching the tech he'd been messing with above her ears.

"I'll just set you up with the external gear--oh, good morning, Ms. Jones. I was just telling Tessa about her new, external device. It would be best if you heard this as well so you can help her maintain it."

Jess looked… like a swamp monster, standing there in the hallway, but Banner hardly batted an eye. Not at her bride of Frankenstein hair, or the dark circles under her eyes, or the makeshift street dancer meets yoga instructor outfit she'd pulled on. She glanced between Tessa and the rest of the room and then, eyes closing, smiled. With a fwump, she sat down beside Danny and nodded. "Take it away, Doc."

"Right… So, these two pieces work in tandem. They generate a charge that will disrupt that of Mnemosyne as they complete the circuit between one another. It is all waterproof, though, naturally. Don't worry about electrocuting yourself or anything like that. You only need to make sure that the relays are functioning. If the batteries go out there could be a problem, but that is all I foresee potentially happening. I… that was a bad joke, they are Stark-reactor powered, they won't wear out. Um…  While it's not exactly stylish, it is more accessible and… it will play to more dramatic effect during your trial in the upcoming weeks."

Tessa felt at the strange, headphone-like metal and plastic nodes that were now secured on her temples. The locking head ring that secured them would be the thing that took the most getting used to. "I… got myself some… Tron headgear. Nice…"

Banner looked up from his tablet to give her a soft smile. "It is a little bulky, but it's padded, so it should be comfortable enough to sleep in. And, of course, it is removable. You simply unlock the band and slip off the transmitters. We will know immediately if you do remove it, so… please don't. That'll cause a kerfuffle and won't help your case. Now, I'll just boot it up and get it synced to our systems and then we'll get out of your hair…"

As Banner attached a small nub to one of the nodes, Tessa felt the charge flash on and then power off almost immediately. After a few buzzes and hums she felt it cranking and clicking, sounds like a computer loading systems made. Pretending to adjust the panel of one node, Banner whispered in her ear, "they're off for now. Once they power up, you'll be able to tell that this is an inhibitor, not a disruptor. It will inhibit your exopathic abilities, but it will not disrupt your reception. That is, you will still have access to everyone's memories, but you won't be able to manipulate them. This is the best we could do to keep from killing you while still rendering you harmless, so far as the rest of the world is concerned. Remember, it is still a disruptor by all other accounts. Don't give them cause to question that. I'm sorry I couldn't do better by you with this, Tessa, but at least now they won't be able to weaponize you."

He patted her shoulder lightly and unplugged the nub, leaving the nodes to hum to life. After Banner gathered his supplies, everyone but Tessa moved to the door with him. "There we go. Up and running… D'you have the old model, Vision?"

"Unfortunately, doctor, it was damaged in removal…" In Vision's hand laid the smashed disruptor, still glistening with Tessa's blood.

Banner cast an eye its way and tsked. "Well, such is life," he shrugged. "We'll see you soon, Dr. Bisho."

Jess was waiting for him at the door. She had a pressing question. "Did it need to be that big and ugly?"

There was a beat when Banner did nothing but look at her with all innocence, then a small grin flickered across his face. "No… Mr. Cage, Mr. Rand. I've been impressed with your work in Harlem… It's... _good_ to see it cleaned up." He nodded at the two of them before disappearing down the hallway. "Good day, Ms. Jones, Dr. Bisho."

The Vision wasn't far behind him. He, too, paused by Jess, this time pressing something into her hand before phasing through the wall. "I hope this model has less bugs…"

The door shut with a snap and Jess sighed. She leaned against it, to be certain it stayed closed, and then slid down it into a heap on the ground.

"The Hulk is _way_ more low-key than I expected. I would _love_ to find out his meditation routine."

"Tiny. The word you're looking for is 'tiny.'… I mean… damn. That's gotta be one hell of a mood swing. But he was chill. It was that Vision that gave me the creeps. You see its eyes dilate? Like real eyes? Freaky shit, right there."

He had kinda made Jess's skin crawl, with the muscles in his face twitching when he was showing remorse, acting ashamed. And then giving Jess something all on the sly, like leaving her a tip in a handshake. There it still sat, small, round, and cold in her hand. But it wasn't a coin like she'd thought. When she finally glanced down, she found it was a grommet.

"This mean anything to you?" She asked Luke who left Danny at the window to come inspect it.

"It's an eyelet. You know, like they use on sails for feeding rope through. Or flags. Shit like that. Don't know why the robot would give it to you, though."

Tessa had shuffled over as Luke answered. Her fingers carefully took the metal ring from Jess's palm, a tiny smile creeping over her face. "Oh… I recognize it. It, uh… It seems I had an advocate…"


	6. Scents and Offense

"Fuckin' fuck... When are they going to fucking fix this?" Jess gave up holding her bag over her head as she hurdled over that one pothole in the crosswalk that was now officially a swimming pool. Her hair hadn't looked that great to begin with, might as well just let it get drenched. Why couldn't she ever remember an umbrella? Ever? Even when it had been thundering when she left the apartment? Even when she lived with someone who remembered everything? And she'd forgotten deodorant again. She was going to be a soaked, stinking mess by the time she got to her office.

"My life is a sad, fucking joke," she grumbled, noticing several other pedestrians staring as she did. "Yeah! I'm talking to myself! You gonna judge me? Go right ahead..." At least, finally, she had no fear that they weren't her own thoughts she was vocalizing. "Better this than whatever weird, sociopathic things you people probably do behind closed doors. That's right, I see you, Mr. Weirdly Frayed Right Sleeve Man..."

The best thing about finally breaking down into a nervous wreck during a rain storm in the dead heat of the summer when you were soaked to the bone and smelling like an old gym sock? People gave you a wide berth. Jess had earned that freak out. And now it was over. Now she could pick up those files for Tess's case and her camera and go home to have a glass of--

"Shit!"

Didn't matter that it was tall, purple-clad, and handsome dropping outta nowhere next to her, he still scared the hell out of her. Actually, the purple made it worse. He nearly got his face smashed in for it. But Jess's swing was wild and he was quick. Before she could begin shouting about how stupid it was to sneak up on her, he'd pulled her out of the rain and avoided the yelling. Jess forgave him for the surprise, only because she didn't want to draw any unwanted attention their way. She was gonna end up yelling at someone else, though, eventually. Maybe the perv with a phone held her way across the street. She was still paranoid.

"Is she okay? Did they get that thing outta her head?"

"Huh?" She glanced back to also find him peering through the steamed up glass of the door behind them. "Oh. Yeah--yes. You were asking about Tess, right?"

He tugged at an ear. "Yes. I'm asking about Tessa. That bullshit tech they cut her open for? It's gone?"

Focus, Jess. Answer the archer's question. Don't look at the lady with the camera. Kilgrave's dead.

"Uh, yes. Yeah, the geek squad was in over a week ago. She's… no longer overloading. Doesn't leave the apartment ever, or talk, or do much of anything, but… Yeah. Yeah, she's doing… better. Got an external... thing on her head instead. Her body's not rejecting it, and it doesn't interfere with, you know, the circuits completing."

He heaved a huge sigh, relief dancing over his face. Water scattered across the floor as he ran his hands over his head quickly. After a few beats, he turned back around to Jess. "You've got superpowers, don't you? Powerful friends, who keep things under the radar?"

"And if I did?" Jess deflected and crossed her arms. Questions like that, in her experience, never brought anything but trouble.

"Just… Just keep her, and those lawyers fighting for her, safe… Please."

Jess eyed him carefully, looking for the catch. He seemed earnest, though, so she finally nodded. It took him just a blink to vanish into the now pouring rain, and Jess was left in that humid vestibule wondering who all knew about her and her powerful friends now. She had known killing Kilgrave would have some consequences. Notoriety in the superhero community wasn't one she'd factored in.

 

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know," Jess said for the third time in a row and went back to sorting through her camera roll. Nothing incriminating yet.

"You didn't ask?"

"Didn't have time. It was an ambush interrogation, and he left as soon as he got what he wanted. Apparently, that was confirmation of some info he already knew."

Luke took a long, deep breath, the sort Jess had come to recognize as him keeping his cool. "You don't seem too messed up by all this."

"I guess I'm glad we're not the only ones looking out for Tess." She glanced over to the couch where Tessa had practically taken root of late. As expected, she was hunched into the corner, arms tight around a pillow. The television was on, but Jess knew that wasn't what her attention was really on. Rarely was Tessa ever voluntarily living in the present these days.

"I'm happy about that, for your girl, Jess, but this is a little more than other people caring about her situation. This is people knowing about you and me and Danny. I know you aren't exactly secretive anymore, and he and I could be more low key, but come on. It's the guys in the superhuman knock-down, drag-out divorce. It's a messy thing and I want no part in it."

"Yeah, I thought about that, too. And I decided that if there was a side that I didn't mind knowing a bit about us, it's Cap's side. Besides, they're all caught up trying to track down his friend, _before_ the enhanced containment forces, or whatever. I'm pretty sure we're safe."

Luke scoffed, pushing his phone towards her. "You're pretty sure about that? And just whose side is Dr. Banner on?"

Jess took a glance at his phone and then had to double-take. It was an email, a request for contract for Luke's Hands for Hire service. And it was from the State of New York, care of Dr. Bruce Banner. Apparently, now the government was in the habit of hiring super powered people to protect other super powered people who were waiting to be tried for those superpowers. Jess smelled some subterfuge in this. She suspected it was Banner pulling the wool over some eyes to make sure Tessa was safe, but she would have to look into it.

"Good news is," she said, after a cursory read of the contract, "you sign on to be Tessa's bodyguard, you'll be an approved visitor for the apartment. I'd bet you my last jar of peanut butter, that's the whole reason Dr. Banner initiated this contract, or at least half the reason. Tessa and her legal team having some physical protection is probably a great idea, considering the current mood towards her and our type right now. Those muscles of yours should keep most of those sadistic fucks from trying to hurt her. I think you should sign it."

 "You think _I should sign it_? I should just enlist myself, my super powered self, into the service of the institution stirring up this shit show?"

"I'll look into it, but I'm pretty sure they won't know. This is Dr. B's insurance policy for Tessa not catching shit during this trial. And when'd you get that email?"

"A little after four…"

"Just after I had my chat with the arrow guy… Too coincidental not to be something that's being organized across party lines. If you can even say Banner's on _a_ side… He's about as non-partisan as they come, it seems like, in this situation. Not in hiding, not in combat. Just… keeping both boats afloat. Yeah, I'd say this is a Banner thing, but… like I said, I'll look into it."

 

The only time Tessa ever came out of her milky white haze was when the legal team came to visit. Her eyes were clear and purple anytime they were in the apartment, and those days she even managed a few words. At first, Jess chalked it up to her wanting to seem worth their time, wanting to seem innocent. She had a feeling, though, there was something more to it. Something to do with the quieter half of Nelson and Murdock.

Luke had been the one to point it out to her after one of the first meetings he escorted, as they were calling it. Murdock and the little one had a thing going on. After he mentioned it, Jess couldn't help but notice. Tess came alive for Murdock, and he seemed to reserve any smile for her alone. It would have been sweet, if it weren't so goddamned tragic. As it was, watching her moon over him just made Jess even sicker with the whole situation. The evenings before jury selection were among the worst.

Tessa was a nervous wreck. The apartment was jammed packed with people. Nearly every one of Tess's approved visitors was perched on some surface (and at least one unapproved), finishing up plans for depositions. The law boys were preparing to share plans for discovery with the federal prosecutor before jury selection, and then to begin taking statements from all their expert and character witnesses the next day. It seemed the idea of all those people focusing on Tess had her all worked up. As a person who, on a normal day, would have preferred to blend in with the wallpaper, this kind of critical, potentially invasive attention was her nightmare. And that was before factoring in the fact that this attention would be used to decide her quality of life for the foreseeable future. There was a perfectly good reason for her to be a nervous wreck.

And Jess wasn't the only one to notice. Matt took careful note, actually. He'd factored in the variables and considered their cost on her demeanor, but he hadn't really been prepared. He was never prepared to find Tessa like this, so out of sorts. It tested the strength of his resolve. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to do something other than advise her legally. It felt so wrong, so heartless, sitting there across from her, doing nothing but spouting information about preferred witness archetypes and possible character witnesses, all while she was practically shaking with anxiety.

He felt her constantly. Folded up on herself on that chair, like a small child afraid of thunderstorms. She was feebly frenetic, a glass ball of nervous energy. Fingers tapped hollow against too prominent elbows, breaths caught ragged as she forced them out. She was so frail now, all her sounds brittle or raspy, her scent even weaker than before and usually tainted with the bitterness of sterilization. Even her skin was cooler than usual, except for the Spot. He constantly tried not to think about the incision on her head, swollen, hot, and angry. It made him mad. Furious, really. It made him want to feel the sting of busted knuckles, the tremor up his elbow and into his shoulder, the sharp pang as something unstoppable impacted with something immovable. He wanted to break something. But, instead he had to sit there and find her justice. And to pretend he couldn't feel her staring at him, couldn't feel the pain she was in, and that he didn't share some small part of it.

"And Dr. Strange said he would give a statement? He _is_ an expert witness… May be our only true one for the not-so-scientific half of this… predicament."

"He looked me in the eye and said he'd be there for Tess. Doesn't seem like the kind of person to go back on something like that." Jessica's consonants blended together, her voice quiet and rough. She was in the weeds over this, too. Arguably, her last few weeks had been the worst of theirs, Tessa's excluded. But she hadn't been alone in her battle…

"Strange is upstanding and all that shit, but the man's got a reputation to maintain. I'd double check if I were you, Nelson." Luke Cage had been with her, constantly by the smell of the two of them. It was only for a second, but Matt felt bitterly jealous of their intimacy as Luke sat down and put an arm around the back of Jessica's chair. The smallest gestures could mean so much.

Tessa was close enough. Matt could reach out and have that precious moment of affection, too. It would just mean explaining himself afterwards, and he didn't have the energy to craft a lie that big. The lie he was already living was big enough. He had never seriously meant it, but often Matt had wished Tessa had included him too in her spell. And just as soon as he thought it, Matt had thanked God she hadn't. As bad as this was for him and her, no doubt, being entirely alone in it would have devastated Tessa. And he would have lost something immense and never known it.

"Right, so… someone needs to call Dr. Strange-- or… do whatever you have to do to contact him. Does a sorcerer use phones?"

On his right, Tessa flinched as Jessica scooted her chair away from the table. "I actually don't for sure know the answer to that question, but I have tracked him down before. This is his home address. My bet is, you can find something from that. Or I can, if you want me to."

"Huh… the Village. Wouldn't have expected that. Or… I might. I dunno. Matt? Thoughts?"

"I'm sure we can find a number, but we'll keep your offer in mind, Jessica. Thank you."

"Sure. So… _is_ there anything you need from me?"

"Chances are, yes. Eventually. We'll finish reviewing witnesses and if we come up with somebody we need help pinning down…"

"I'm your PI."

"Exactly."

Jessica sat back down heavily. "Right. So, I won't start drinking yet. Just in case." A pause. "Tess, you okay?"

Tessa's breathing jumped abruptly and then stopped. "I… Yes. Just nervous." She had been drifting out of this reality. Matt had noticed it more and more on his recent visits. She tried to stay engaged, but oftentimes it felt to him like she was dreaming. When he'd asked about it later, Foggy had insisted she's been awake the whole time. Slipping into memories.

After a moment, she unfolded herself and stood. "I could use a cup of tea, though… You can do this without me for a minute, right?"

"I'll get it. You rest." Karen, ever helpful, was faster to the kitchen and Tessa was left at the table with no excuse to escape.

She hesitated for a moment and then pulled her chair closer to the table and slipped into it. Her hair still smelled the same somehow. She was sitting close enough now that he was practically breathing its bouquet. In fact, she was so close that he could risk a small gesture of his own. Her hands were clasped tight together on her lap, but out of sight beneath the table.

"Okay… So… now we've got… as expert witnesses, Tony Fucking Stark. Can't wait for that. Tony Stark, Dr. Banner, Dr. Helen Cho, Dr. Strange-- jeez. Do we have enough doctors?"

As Foggy ran down the list, Matt took the opportunity to find Tessa's hands. They were cold and tense, but as soon as he touched them, they softened. Her heart quickened, but she otherwise expertly hid her surprise. Matt laced his fingers with hers and committed the feeling to memory, their secret, fleeting touch. When he slipped his hand away, before his face could betray him, Matt found a grommet in his palm. One of the grommets from his suit, a token of another secret they shared. Daredevil knew Mnemosyne and Mnemosyne knew Daredevil. And he wasn't the only one. She knew so many secrets of so many super-powered individuals, with which she'd done nothing but provide assistance, for them and the general public. And yet, here she was, being prosecuted for that assistance. It was insane.

"… I mean, the more doctors the better. Degrees mean expertise, right?"

"Sure, sure, but the jury is going to tire of big-time superhero types acting as the only experts on the matter. Half of these people are responsible for creating Tessa--or, creating Tessa's situation. Sorry. What I mean to say is, they're going to be sick of hearing these people who are responsible for her explaining themselves, covering their asses, essentially. We need to put someone on the stand who can give another perspective on the matter, a perspective that'll mean more to the jury. Like…"

"Like a person who doesn't have a personal stake in proving superpowers aren't a threat?"

"Yeah… or someone who can attest to them being a boon."

Foggy fell silent, at a loss to suggest that kind of someone. Neither Jessica nor Luke had a response.

But Matt did. That grommet had given him an idea. Several ideas. "Well, first, we obviously need to approach individuals from the pool of people Tessa's healed. No matter what. But, what if we found someone who can tick both boxes?"

"Who in the hell has no stake in the superpower debate?" Luke asked.

Tessa answered. "Someone with no grasp on reality… Are you sure he's a good witness? He's… well, he's a menace to put it lightly."

"Exactly, his history as a menace is well documented. Presumably, we will be able to demonstrate a chain of causality between a lessening of that menacing during your therapy sessions and a resurgence when they ended. Proving your influence is positive in the realm of super powered consequences is precisely the sort of evidence we need. And Deadpool is the epitome of neutral. As neutral as chaos."

"Deadpool? Matt, are _you_ crazy?"

"No, the prosecution will be unable to demonstrate that Deadpool has any bias towards the result of power-regulation. He is a mercenary, money decides his opinion."

"But… he's insane."

"Sometimes. I think he will happily admit that under Tessa's influence he was less so. His colorful backstory as a government experiment will play well to the tone we're trying to create as well. What Tessa did with him was to make a government mistake less of a liability. I think he'll be an excellent character witness. The least we can do is depose him. If he's too erratic then we'll drop him."

Matt could feel Foggy shaking his head, but there was no further arguing. Just a question. "And just how do we find him?"

He smiled in Jessica's direction. "I think we found an errand precisely suited to your talents, Jessica."

"Yup. I'm your girl," she sighed.

 

"You do realize that just because you bought me food, doesn't mean this is a real date, right? You're not getting anything out of this."

Luke held the hotdog out of Jess's reach. "Hey. I also drove us over here. I think this qualifies."

Jess scoffed, "we're hunting down a psychotic mercenary in the worst part of town. This is most certainly _not_ a date."

"I dunno. Teaming up, working together to beat the hell out of some idiots, that's pretty romantic to me."

"If there's the potential for me bleeding, not romantic. For future reference." She rolled her eyes, finally snatching the hotdog from him. "Okay, he runs with some real shitbags. I'm guessing he'll be squirreled away, though, 'cause he has a reputation. So, I'll find him and get him out, since he knows me, while you wreck some faces distraction-style. Sound good?"

"Perfect date."

"Shaddup."

It was a good chunk of time past midnight at this point, and the two of them had already blazed through a half dozen dives and condemned cesspits. Jess had narrowed it down to this one, particularly skeevy porn shop as the haunt every sleaze ball and bottom feeder knew to be Deadpool's current favorite. Nine out of ten fuckwads recommended it. And so, there they were, standing in the neon glow of ass cracks and nipple-less tits, assessing the situation.

"'S closed."

"Yeah, they all said it would be. And yet, their security is disengaged." Jess pointed through a sliver of the window not filled with barely non-explicit novelties. Mounted there on the wall sat a high end system hub that clearly read 'OFF.' "No way they got something that nice and don't engage it when they lock up. Speaking of, what porn shop that isn't a cover for illegal operations has a security system worth twice the shop's value? Shady."

"Hm."

She glanced up to catch a rare grin from Luke. "What?"

"Nothin'. Just appreciating you."

"Aw. Come on, focus, Luke." Jess zipped up her jacket to her neck.

"No, your smarts, girl. Psh. But you do look _fine_ tonight. _Date_ fine."

Jess shoved him stumbling into the street and then pulled out her lock pick set. "Make yourself useful and go check the back. Tryin' t'make this into a date… smells like a fucking urinal out here and I've already stepped over at least two pools of puke tonight. Nothin' date-like about that… unless it was my puke, which it wasn't. Swear to god. Ah! Open sesame."

The lock tumblers slid into place and turned with a satisfying click. The steel enforced door swung open without even a squeak. It was like they wanted someone to break in successfully. Jess watched the dust motes dance, thick in the neon lit air. No lines or refractions. That snazzy security system really was disengaged. That, or it wasn't the snazzy type that had laser triggering. Jess was peering into the half-light of the interior, when she heard footsteps approaching behind her.

"Locked tight," Luke said and then paused. "What in the hell are you doing down there?"

"Checking," she muttered, standing and brushing the dirt off her knees and palms. "Didn't want any surprises."

"Uh-huh. Well, I listened in for a minute and there was a good hum coming from their basement windows, like they're have a rave down there. Lotta voices. Lotta activity."

Jess nodded as she edged inside the shop. "I suppose that's where we'll start then. After we check up here for a weapons stash. Like I said, I don't want any surprises. 'Specially not a bullet. I like this jacket."

"You got it, though, I'm thinking maybe we're moving a little fast. Doing an erotica shop run this early…"

"You're lucky we're doing this quietly, otherwise I'd'a shoved you through that window. Ass."

Twenty minutes later, Jess had thoroughly explored the bowels of that shithole and still no Deadpool. And now there was blood on her shoes. This was not how she'd planned on this going. She stopped sifting through some poker chips that were scattered across the floor when she heard activity beyond the door. There were a few muffled crunches before Luke stepped inside what was left of this backroom poker tournament.

He paused on the threshold and assessed the room. After a cursory glance, he pulled a half-hearted frown. "Girl… They have a hard time talking with their jaws dislocated." Something caught his eye as he stepped over bodies and various spills. He stooped over and stood back up with a newspaper. "This have something to do with your massacre in here?"

Jess snatched the paper away from him. "None of them are dead. I think," she snapped defensively. There was some truth to his accusation, though. The inflammatory piece of reporting in her hands had been the offending party's mistake. Jess smoothed the photo out and considered Tess's face as it stared solemnly back at her. "And they earned it."

Five Minutes Earlier

"Whoa! VIP access only, lady!"

Jess glared incredulously around this room filled with smoke and body odors to the point where her eyes were watering. "You gotta different idea of VIP than I do, sparky. I've been in gas station bathrooms more appealing than this place. Any'a you _very important people_ seen Deadpool 'round here?"

There were several choice responses to Jess's questions, but one really stood out. He sat in the back, muttering to his buddies, and shouting over other voices when he decided his opinion was more important than everyone else's. "I _do_ know 'er, Mike. Just saw 'er… here! Hey! You're the friend of this freak on trial for digging in our brains. What? She diggin' in your brain, makin' you do shit for her now? Crazy. You must be crazy hangin' 'round some creepy freak like that. You just _know_ she's gonna be put away forever. If we're lucky, they'll put 'er down. Her an' all the muties--"

"Aw, you're just running your mouth 'cause DP's not here and you feel all big. Shut it, Willy--oh, shit!"

 

_Willy_ , with his anti-mutant sentiments, was much less of a big talker with his teeth down his throat. So, were all his smell-impaired friends. In fact, Willy was still quietly crying as Jess used his shirt to wipe the blood off of her shoes.

"I felt obliged to teach them some manners."

"Well… they'll certainly learn some new mannerisms, eating out of a straw for the next five months." Luke was trying not to laugh as he picked his way over to her. "Did you at least get some info off of them before you schooled them in their p's and q's?"

"They weren't exactly forthcoming with _useful_ information. I did, however, receive confirmation from several sources that you were right, I'm looking _fine_ tonight."

Luke scoffed and toed over the guy groaning nearest to him. "I'm guessing those were these fellas here, try'na will their balls back out of their bodies."

"Correctamundo." Jess blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and began skimming the entry book she'd finally found. "You think Mike Hunt's a fake name or--"

"Who turned off the music?!"

Jess recognized his voice even before the door swung open. Deadpool. Finally.

"Ho- _ho_!" He cackled, glancing around the room. The joy visible through his mask was predictable but still unsettling. "Noobs got wrecked! Ouchie. Oh, well… these dweebs owed me money, so… I'll just take thi--"

Patience was usually a limited resource for Jess, but after this night, it was damn-near precious. She had stomped over to where Deadpool was rifling through wallets and yanked him up by the neck.

"--Hiya!" He yelped but seemed generally unaffected by his air flow being restricted. "I'm taken. You should know that."

Jess held him farther away, trying to only breathe through her mouth, and then immediately regretting that as well. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You reek."

"New food truck. Bad choice. Made me miss the party." He shrugged, still dangling a foot off the ground.

Jess groaned. "Murdock, you better not be wrong about this…"


	7. Opening Pandora's Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The chapters get *really* long from here on out. Consider this my formal apology.
> 
> Also, the timeline here is clearly very skewed for the Netflix franchises, as well. This should be obvious, since the events of Daredevil Season 2 have not been mentioned or addressed yet (and, in fact, have not happened here), but the point bears mentioning.

There was a certain metallic taste that Tessa had come to associate with the sort of fear she was feeling that morning. She realized that this was because the last time she had been so paralyzingly terrified her mouth and throat and lungs had all been filled with blood. Unfortunately, the awareness of the fact that she wasn't currently dying didn't make the sharp tang of pennies fade any.

Dying had been easy, sudden, summary. Waiting for this trial had felt endless. Everything to do with it had been drawn out, extended, and postponed. It was like being water boarded: the next torture was always agonizingly imminent, while the succor of its final, absolute ending was never similarly at hand. No matter what happened, no matter what that jury decided, this trial would never really be over. Its repercussions would haunt Tessa forever. Literally.

So, the taste of terror was actually more appropriate that morning. This was the most afraid she had ever been.

Her saving grace lay in the logistics of travel to the courthouse. The excruciating anxiety that filled her body, that sent it thrumming with adrenalin, would surely have caused her to ping her phase-inhibitor had it not been for that town car ride downtown. Sweat may have been beading over every surface of her body, but she didn't break down into panic. She didn't break her multi-week streak of perfect behavior. The hand coolly placed over her own stopped all that, finger swirling gentle circles over the inside of her wrist. The car was a nice one, something more for show than practical use. Matt and Foggy had insisted that it would serve a purpose. So, would their presence in it with her. They would arrive with her, prepare last minute items with her on the way. And steel her nerves in doing so, which is exactly what they did. Foggy sat in the front seat and rattled off reminders, while Matt sat beside her and simply held her hand.

Alone in that back seat with him, Tessa's whole world shrunk. Her mind closed in on two thoughts: his hand on hers and the dread she felt about stepping out of that car. Of course, the ride was far too short. Soon, alarmingly soon, she had to face the reality of something worse than leaving a car. Soon, she had to walk into that courthouse and face her fate. That fate would be dolled out to her as she sat at least eight inches away from Matt.

Nowhere to hide.

"Alright, we're pulling up." Foggy was red in the face, blood pressure was probably pretty high already. He turned to face her and kindly did not notice Matt's fingers clasping hers tighter. "Don't make eye contact with any of them. Don't respond, just walk inside behind Matt. As quickly as possible. I'll be right behind you."

"It'll be overwhelming. It will be." This close, Tessa could see Matt's eyes behind his glasses. They were a little crinkled, their lashes heavy, sad. But, he seemed to be looking right into her own for once. "Be ready for the onslaught, hold it at bay, and we'll do the rest."

There were armed guards waiting on the sidewalk as the town car pulled up to the courthouse. The throng of reporters gave them some distance, but not much. Her knees shaking, Tessa considered being grateful for their guns and menacing stares. But then she realized, they weren't there to protect her. They were there to protect the rabid reporters from her, the criminal on trial. Bile joined the blood in her mouth and she willed her hands to steady in their cuffs.

Matt gave her fingers one last squeeze. Blood began pounding in Tessa's ears as she watched him slide to the door and swing his legs and cane out, the car still rolling to a stop. She followed as closely as possible, her chin tucked. Her hair fell over her face, what of it could around her disruptor headpiece, but it was of no help. The assault was immediate. The noise first and foremost, in her head and outside of it. They were shouting questions, remembering them as well, and loudly. Other things made their way in, insults, fears, as vivid and jarring as the aggressive questions. The jostling didn't help. Hands and elbows found their way into her path, catching hold of her sleeves, or sometimes even her hair. But Tessa plowed right on, focused on Matt's mismatched socks in front of her.

That was a nice touch. She had noticed a few others that morning. Matt and Foggy looked sharp. Of course, they looked professional. They were opening a big case, a highly media-attended case. All the same, Matt had slipped in some things, like the socks, that were probably to help convince everyone he was blind. Tessa _knew_ they were intentional, though. They'd been like little messages all morning. For her and just her. His socks flashed mismatched in front of her as she followed, red and purple. That wouldn't mean a damn thing to anyone else, the man was blind. To Tessa, though, and maybe Foggy, it was significant. Daredevil and Mnemosyne. Red and purple together. He was also wearing that red tie, her Christmas gift to him. It clashed horribly with his grey suit, but seeing it made Tessa almost think about smiling.

Other than that, he looked stunning. Handsome, so the jury would be inclined to like him, but with things just awry enough to garner some sympathy points for their side. Brilliant. He'd even fully shaved. Foggy, too, was pulling out all the stops. He was dressed to the nines, with a waistcoat and everything and Tessa had her suspicions that he'd even gotten his hair cut some for this. They looked the part, and together they played to the widest audience. If only that was enough to make Tessa feel more confident about the situation. But, her clothes--selected by Foggy and Karen to be most media friendly, most mainstream and moderate--made her feel like a starched doll. She was uncomfortable and stiff, things clinging where they didn't normally, and worse, now people were tugging at the pieces.

"Please, everyone, have a little decency and give the woman some space!" Foggy cried out, as he caught Tessa on the courthouse steps. He'd saved her from going tumbling down the stairs and collapsing into a pile of misery and embarrassment. Someone had snagged her jacket pocket and, in those heels, she hadn't been able to steady herself.

Matt turned, jaw tight, and helped Tessa up the last few steps. He was seething with anger. She could sense it through his fingertips. The crowd gave the two of them a much wider berth. Apparently, they drew their ethical line at tripping a blind man to assault his client. Matt kept his palm pressed firm between her shoulder blades as they crossed the plaza and entered the courthouse proper. He didn't miss a beat, but Tessa had to take a moment.

First of all, the building was enormous, incredibly resonant, and packed like a sardine can. Outside had been bad, but inside was tangibly worse. The air was thick with voices, smells, and memories. It was like the soaring marble ceilings trapped everything beneath them in a dome of sensory bombardments. The crowd still swarmed them, the questions still rang out, but now there was no free and open air for sounds to drift away into, no farther space for bodies to be herded away towards. They were stuck. Everything was contained within this giant block of carved stone, a place pretending freedom with its vastness but really only achieving incarceration. Tessa didn't like the way that realization tasted. She wasn't the first to come to that conclusion. Memories of the very idea resonated in the walls, the floors and ceilings, trapped as well. It tasted like freedom fast disappearing. It tasted like blood.

"Are you alright?" Matt asked quietly, feeling Tessa sway back onto her heels.

"No. But, I suppose that's to be expected. Could they make this place any more imposing?"

"I'm going to suggest you hold off on that question until you see the courtroom," Foggy muttered, finally catching up to them. "Come on, they're getting ballsy and the armed escort's getting antsy. Bad combo."

Tessa noticed the fast impending proximity of the crowd then and kicked into double time paces. She clung closer to Matt--maybe too close--as they neared a pair of wooded doors that somehow seemed more inorganic than their surrounding walls. Set into a larger, floor to ceiling panel of dark-grained wood, they gave Tessa the impression that she would have to open a quarry wall to access the courtroom. Like two slabs of deep brown marble, the doors swung open slowly and with a quiet grinding sound as the bottom skimmed across the stone floor.

The great mineral cage of the courthouse opened into a smaller wooden box, trimmed with marble. If the lofty white walls of the atrium and hall had been intimidating but only secretly confining, the stuffy ubiquity of wood-panels in the courtroom was downright oppressive _and_ intimidating. Tessa immediately felt like she couldn't breathe as she stepped into the petrified carcasses of trees, a giant wooden crate to shut her inside. Everywhere she looked shone streak-less, polished dark wood, still sweet with the wax and resins that maintained the shine and slickness. The room had windows, high-paned, cathedral windows, but all they achieved was a semblance of the white brutality of the courthouse's marble stretches, both in their own impeccable lengths and in the glaring reflections against the wood of the benches, tables and floors. In here, light did not mean life. It only accused. Tessa felt blinded by it, exposed under it.

She didn't seem to be alone. Foggy squinted through the room as they made their way to the defense's bench. The light created stark contrasts in his and Matt's faces, danced golden from Foggy's hair, red from Matt's. Most of all, though, it caught Matt's glasses, leaving circles and ellipses of blood red on his face and the table in front of them. The red pooled there, like a spill on the huge span of richly polished surface. As Matt situated himself on Tessa's left, she stared at the quickly darting circle. She could see her face in it, in the wood's deep clarity. She looked gaunt and ridiculous with her disruptor headband, her eyes creepily red and darkly circled.

No one else noticed that, though. The courtroom was practically full to bursting when they entered, and instead focused on a practically unanimous memory: a line from Stark's Mnemosyne press conference, a moment he claimed to regret, which he'd apologized to her for multiple times since the trial's media coverage chose it as their slogan.

 _She obviates our culture's reliance on_ and obsession _with secrets_.

"They covet their secrets," Tessa muttered, glancing up and around at the hostile faces glaring at her.    

"What was that?" Foggy asked, but Matt shook his head before Tessa could repeat herself.

"An observation on the already… ill-disposed mood of the room. No more of that. Okay, Tessa? This isn't 'us against them.' You can win them over, but you can't be up in arms. Just… try to be at ease. Or, at least, _look_ at ease."

His hand found her shoulder and Tessa let a little tension ebb away. She couldn't see his face, because of the windows, but she could feel him grinning softly at her, and that was enough. The faces that suddenly came into her view past Matt's shoulder also helped.

'Hey, chica,' Jess mouthed, and then gave a tiny stiff wave. She was seated on the aisle beside Luke, with Danny a seat over.

The three of them looked worse for wear, too. Jess especially looked bedraggled, but she was putting on a brave face for Tessa. And Tessa appreciated it, just the tiniest bit of nonaggression. She could have cried. Luke, though not one for warmth per se, still gave her a nod that felt as assuring as anything. And Danny, kindhearted oddball that he was, was wearing the 'Keep Memory Alive' t-shirt that Mnemosyne's small band of supporters had popularized in the past few weeks.

They were a breath of fresh air in this room. Jess especially. She had learned how to keep her mind 'in the now' while living with Tessa, and just then, she was blessedly silent compared to the screaming uproar the rest of the room was offering. Tessa caught a few things that made her nervous from Jess's direction, things she bookmarked for later, but they were muffled and brief. Luke was focusing on a grocery list and Danny had another court case on the mind, one Tessa didn't recognize. A break from the fear and outrage at her existence that Tessa got from every other angle.

Almost every other angle. A more careful glance behind them found a few more friendly faces. Well, technically friendly faces. Next to Danny was a 'reserved' seat but beyond it sat Dr. Banner, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. When he noticed Tessa looking back his way, he gave her a thumbs up and smiled. Beside him was Vision, wearing a rather un-Vision-like human suit and tie, which was violently unsettling to Tessa. He gave her a doleful look and nodded. Stark sat off to his left, flanked by no-names and the woman who had to be Pepper Potts, quiet melancholy closing off her expression. Considering the boisterous energy of the room, Tony too seemed remarkably resigned. Bringing up the flank sat Dr. Strange, oddly in half shadow and curiously unnoticed by most people around him. He gave Tessa a shallow nod as she looked his way, a whiff of spices filling her mind. There was a pull of vaguely familiar memories from behind Strange's magic veil, but Tessa was distracted from investigating further by a loud clatter to the right of the room.

"All rise for the honorable Judge William Hayford!" The bailiff, in full riot gear, had just stepped in from the side chamber. Behind him followed a man who had to be the honorable Judge William Hayford. He came in like a tempest, a swirl of black robes, fluttering to keep up with the momentum of his charging pace. Mounting the bench, Judge Hayford glowered at the windows and punched at a panel on the wall behind him. Shades immediately began to descend, bringing the courtroom into a more manageable soft lighting.

He turned that scowl over the courtroom before sinking into his seat and slamming the gavel down a few times, despite the general silence of the room. "As you all already know, we are hearing The People of the United States of America versus Dr. Theresa Bisho. There is a gag order on the proceedings conducted within this room and concerned with this case. Any indiscretions by _any_ parties will incur criminal charges at _my_ discretion. Do not test my patience. I know full well the results of this case will inevitably be bounced up to the Supreme Court for its conclusions. Do not invite that incurrence due to the mishandling of proceedings. Now. There are a few other matters that I would like to bring to the jury and the counsels' attention. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Kendrick and associates, Nelson and Murdock…"

As honorable Judge Hayford turned his withering gaze onto the People's bench, Tessa's attention followed. And there it remained, to be swiftly joined by panic. The representation for the prosecution filled the counterpart to the gigantic wooden monstrosity that seemed to swallow Tessa, Matt and Foggy. They spread binders neatly over every square inch of its polished surface and sat quietly, shoulders brushing but elbows tucked in so as not to bump into on another. Behind them sat another seven or so associates or paralegals, filling the front row with their fluttering papers on clipboards. It was an army. There was an army of people whose entire professional existence was being employed to destroy Tessa's life.

Sweat covered her body, cold and clammy.

Too many. There were too many people over there. Tessa had never found herself unimpressed with Matt and Foggy, nor had any reason to doubt them. Until now. There was the matter of sheer numbers at hand now. Logically, more minds working on a problem developed a better answer. Tessa had no chance. She was fucked--

Out of nowhere, Matt's hand found hers under the table and unbound her fist, smoothed the indentations of her nails from her palm. Not out of nowhere. He had surely heard her heart stampeding to escape her chest. He could read her body well enough to know her mind. And, she wasn't a special case in that regard. Tessa sighed deeply, still staring at the prosecution's team. They were outnumbered, her team, but not necessarily out-matched. She doubted whether anyone at that table over there could do what Matt could do. Or were as passionate about this case as him or Foggy.

A calm washed over Tessa's body slowly and she actually looked at the faces of the people fighting against her freedom. This Kendrick, the US Attorney, was an intimidating figure. Immaculately dressed, not a hair out of line, she looked like she'd been carved from the face of a cliff. Her face was entirely expressionless as she listened to the judge's instructions, her back and shoulders at perfect right angles. She didn't even blink all that much. That said, she didn't look all that _cruel_. There was no scowl to her lips, no hardness to her brow. Her demeanor merely read 'here to take care of business,' just like Foggy and Matt had described her. Tessa hoped Kendrick's reputation for professional objectivity meant pushing to uphold the letter of the law and no further. Because, as Foggy had pointed out often, Tessa's case was so beyond the law it was hardly constitutional.

Now, Kendrick cut an impressive figure, but it was her right-hand associate that Tessa really found herself studying. She was an attractive woman, sure, but it was the background noise in her memory that really drew Tessa in. Whereas Kendrick had been all flashes of courtrooms and murmurs of legal procedure, this woman had emotions boiling at the surface, some fear, some shame, but mostly uncertainty. As Tessa pushed to pick out more through her inhibitor's interference, she began to notice the emotions flickering across the woman's face. She was young, probably around Tessa and Jess's age, but worry lines were developing already where her brow and cheeks bunched together in the expression she wore just then. Nerves seemed to be cropping up as well. Glasses were plucked off and hands run through curly, dark hair. She reminded Tessa of someone but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, ironically.

The disappearance of Matt's hand drew Tessa out of her reverie. The honorable Judge Hayford was still speaking, but he sounded like things were winding up, and as he did so, the subject of Tessa's unsolved curiosity was beginning to stir even more.

"…applies for the entirety of these proceedings. Mine is a zero tolerance policy. Bear that in mind. Now, the prosecution may make its opening statements." He pursed his mouth, waving towards Kendrick and sitting back in his chair.

Kendrick nodded, face unchanging, but didn't move. Instead, her associate stood and straightened her skirt. "Thank you, your Honor."

"Huh," Foggy muttered on Matt's other side. "She's letting Walters open…"

However surprising it was to Foggy that the US Attorney herself wasn't giving the opening statements, Walters certainly performed up to standard. She wasn't particularly tall of stature, in fact, she was rather slight, but she carried herself with the utmost confidence. Tessa could feel that it was feigned, could feel how many times Walters had practiced her comportment to exude this sort of poise and easy resolution, but only she, and maybe Matt, could sense that. By all accounts Walters was cool, calm, collected and certain.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," she addressed them smoothly, approaching the stands slowly, solemnly, holding folded glasses in her hands. "It is inevitable that we have all come into this room, this day, with some preconceptions. This is a hyper publicized trial, on a hotspot topic in current events. Superhumans. They affect our lives on a daily basis. Some more than others, some in better, or worse, ways than others. We have _subjective opinions_ about the super-powered community. But this trial is not concerned with _subjective opinions_. _Justice_ is not concerned with _subjective opinions_. Justice deals in objective facts and this trial must revolve solely around objective facts.

"And so, setting aside our biases and emotions, we will find in the next few weeks the cold, hard facts proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the defendant has been, is, and will continue to be an insidious threat to the nation on public and private levels. Theresa Bisho has been brought to trial this day on multiple counts-- multiple felony, _federal_ charges have been brought against her. She is a threat to this nation and its citizens on a scale so severe that we have yet to see its like on trial ever in this country. But, sadly, hers is not a unique case. Hers is a harbinger, a first warning of things to come, and as such must be treated swiftly and definitively. As the evidence of her infractions is so manifest, this will happily be an easy decision for you, and one which will set our nation ahead in the coming conflicts that Dr. Bisho's transgressions portend.

"As you all know, Theresa Bisho is a person of augmented capabilities. She is not on trial for this…"

Behind them, in the front row, someone scoffed loudly. Tessa strongly suspected it was Luke. Walters continued on unaffected.

"…but rather for the crimes she has committed so easily and effectively with those abilities that she has persisted with impunity for over a year in violating national security regulations, endangering the public at large by exposing national security, and invading the privacy of individual citizens on a vast scale. For knowingly and willingly engaging in such activities without _any_ attempts to cease, the defendant has been brought to answer the following charges: conspiracy to defraud the government, malicious violation of civil rights, theft of public property and records, espionage and censorship, false personation and fraud, obstruction of justice, sabotage, terrorism, robbery of intellectual property, and disturbing the peace."

Another scoff skittered across the otherwise silent courtroom and Tessa felt it die on everyone's ears. This crowd was in complete agreement with what Ms. Walters was saying. Even Tessa was beginning to agree. She wanted to sink down into her chair and disappear altogether.

"To these she has pled not guilty and sits here today, awaiting your decision on the matter, to be delivered after reflection on the _facts_ that will be presented in favor of her conviction and on the _arguments_ against it. The prosecution will provide you numerous pieces of conclusive, tangible, undeniable evidence of the defendant's guilt in these matters. Physical evidence will attest to her capacity for these activities and witnesses will confirm that she has, in fact, engaged in them. It is a very simple matter, which will appear quite clear to you, upright citizens. Theresa Bisho has been documented as a mneumomancer by the very people who instilled her with this power to control, manipulate, and corrupt memories. The very people who will be paraded before you to testify to her innocence. Cold hard science performed by Tony Stark, Dr. Bruce Banner, and Dr. Helen Cho says in indisputable numbers how Theresa Bisho's altered neurochemistry interacts with electrochemical relays and beta waves-- the components we believe constitute memory in our brains-- to shape and wield them by her will.

"The records of observations of her employment of these skills indicate that her power is all-pervasive and our witnesses will confirm this. No mind is immune; government officials are as susceptible as private persons. All memories are at her disposal, to do with what she wishes. And we will _prove_ that this is to disrupt our way of life in this nation permanently and detrimentally. Despite the procession of celebrity witnesses the defense will parade through here attesting to her good character, we will prove that the defendant has intentionally compromised the civil liberties of every person in this room, and in this country, and has undermined the security of the nation.

"We cannot make arguments in absentia, but it must be noted that just because the evidence does not exist for us now, that does not mean that it did not _once_ exist… The defendant's ability to manipulate memories puts all evidence in this case immediately under threat. That evidence against her is under threat of erasure. It must be acknowledged that, despite her apparent philanthropy and all esteem held for her character, Theresa Bisho's power is something that cannot simply be overlooked. I would know… my family has a history dealing with these issues…"

There was a quiet sigh behind Tessa.

"…You all know my cousin, Dr. Bruce Banner, again who will be testifying to Dr. Bisho's innocence. We must put aside our _personal_ inclinations in this courtroom, and, devoid of those muddying perceptions, we will find the facts indicating clearly that Theresa Bisho is guilty. Thank you. You Honor."

As she nodded, glasses clutched tight in her hands, and strode back to the prosecution's bench, it sounded like the air was seeping from the room. Whispers echoed harshly off the wood with an unending hiss. Tessa felt like the air had gone from her, too. How could Foggy--how could anyone follow that opening, she wondered frantically. After a moment the gavel came cracking down and dispersed the whispers.

"That is enough. I will not have my courtroom become a gossip's salon. The defense may now present their opening remarks if they so wish."

At the other end of their table, Foggy stood. Tessa looked his way quickly after watching Banner's cousin and crack prosecutor take her seat again. No wonder she had seemed so familiar, a blood resemblance perhaps. Diverting her over-intrigued attention from the now less mysterious Ms. Walters, Tessa turned to the jury stands, where Foggy was quietly speaking.

"…a completely valid and _important_ point. This court must rule on Tessa Bisho's case impartially, based on only the facts, and only the facts that are condemning _beyond_ _a shadow of a doubt_. The case the prosecution makes must be air tight, no holes in their logic, _irrefutable_ , in order for Dr. Bisho to be proven guilty. This cannot and will not happen. It is simply impossible. The prosecution's case rests on accusations levied against Dr. Bisho that are completely and entirely _speculative_. Their evidence _implies_ , it does not _indicate_ ; it _suggests_ but cannot _demonstrate_ anything with finality. What material evidence they will present to you provides _possibility_ but not _proof_ or even probability. Their witnesses will be persons, who while undoubtedly justified in their outrage, will be directing that outrage _blindly_ at a convenient target, at the boogeyman this media firestorm has made our client out to be completely baselessly. Responsibility for the acts these witnesses will attribute to Tessa Bisho cannot be _proven beyond reasonable doubt_.

"Moreover, our client's past, her life up to and past the point at which she was involuntarily made the extraordinary being we now fear out of _ignorance_ , up to and past that point, Tessa Bisho's manner of living will demonstrate more manifestly the complete _non-threat_ that she is. Her life and circumstances paint the picture of a _victim_ making the best of an unfathomable situation that she was thrust into, not an imminent threat, not even a probable threat. From the moment she was burdened with her memory-based _responsibilities_ , Tessa Bisho has acted with altruism and caution. This was not her choice, and she has made the best of what hand she was dealt, helping her community and maintaining the delicate balance she was tasked with upon being made the _host of a cosmic entity responsible for human memory_. The prosecution will not point this out, because it is damning to their case, but Dr. Tessa Bisho is now not only capable of controlling memory but _obliged_ to maintain human access to memory. But, we will allow our expert witnesses to explain the cosmic factors to you. They were, after all, the ones that volunteered our client, once her life was stolen from her, to become the host that saved all of human memory from extinction.

"And beyond that sacrifice, Tessa Bisho has, even before her assumption of mortal memory, been a civil servant. A teacher. Not just any teacher, but the volunteer--yes, unpaid--teacher for all the terminal and lifelong child patients at a local hospital. When gifted with superhuman powers and responsibilities, she did not try to augment her own situation. No, she remained, living in Hell's Kitchen with a roommate. And instead, she devoted her time to applying her skills in upholding her cosmic responsibility, in nurturing memory. She risked her privacy, even in socially fraught times, to seek out and restore damaged memories. Tessa Bisho is a fundamentally _good_ person. It is innate, in her core through and through that she is selfless, good-hearted, _harmless_. She is a teacher, a healer, an altruist. And she has been nothing but persecuted for that selflessness, and for a condition she neither chose for herself, nor can change. She is merely a normal, good-hearted person foisted into an impossible situation that she is trying to manage in order to make it beneficial, not by helping herself, but by helping everyone else. And that is all that any evidence presented in this courtroom will indicate definitively. Arguments to the contrary will only be twisting these facts to feed the current atmosphere of fear towards superhumans in general, implicating her in crimes _she is capable of but has yet to do_.

"Tessa Bisho is here before you today, unfairly made a scapegoat, forced, after weeks of physical abuse and imprisonment, to stand trial for crimes she _might_ do. She was arrested out of fear, because of conjecture and from that fear, supposition _and prejudice_ , she had endured indignity, medical mutilation and now her freedom is at stake. Her only crime is to exist as a super powered individual. While the public has good cause to be wary of such enhanced individuals, the people have not empowered our judicial system to punish fellow citizens _preemptively_. That is not the purpose of this court, of our laws, of you jurors invested with the responsibility of executing justice. The only responsibility you can fairly assume is to oversee these proceedings and to declare guilt _only_ when evidence proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Luckily for you, the weight of this woman's life need not rest on your shoulders, since she is manifestly _innocent_ on all counts of the crimes she stands accused of. Thank you. Your Honor."

Throughout his entire statement, Foggy had stood completely still, his hands set on the railing of the jury stands, voice soft but firm. When he turned back to Matt and Tessa, she could see that his eyes were ever so slightly sheened, as if he was close to tears. And a sorry picture he had painted, that much was evident to Tessa as the difficult morality of her case hit the rest of the courtroom. Besides the righteously vindictive thoughts boiling in the seats behind her, Tessa felt indecision and doubt filling the surface memories of those around her. This was going to be a difficult few weeks.  Every volley back and forth was going to take an enormous toll on those involved, perhaps one that they would not recover from. Tessa hoped that the source of that toll wouldn't center on her fate.

"Prosecution, your first witness," the honorable Judge Hayford grumbled, clearly unsettled already by the circumstances laid before him. Tessa caught the smell of charcoal and sunscreen and a splash of water from a small child playing in an inflatable pool, chasing bubbles that appeared out of nowhere as a young woman loped around the lawn, cackling. Sunlight flickered around the shadows of leaves before the oppressive ambience of the courtroom reclaimed her and Hayford again. No one was unbiased in this room.

"The prosecution calls Dr. Helen Cho to the stand."

Tessa hadn't noticed Dr. Cho during her earlier inspection of the room, but she wasn't surprised to see her. Both sides had declared Dr. Helen Cho as a key witness. That's what happens when you're one in basically only three people capable of coherently conversing on a topic. She was characteristically composed as she approached the stand. Her face was basically blank, though her eyes already read 'tired of this shit.'

The federal prosecutor herself was handling this examination. She stood, hands folded tightly behind her back and paced in front of the stand as Dr. Cho was sworn in. When the bailiff retreated again, Kendrick stalked to fill his void, like a big cat. For all that, her words were quiet and anything but aggressive. "Please state your name for the court."

"Helen Cho."

"And you're a medical doctor?"

"I am a doctor of several disciplines, Ms. Kendrick, but yes, I suspect you're inquiring as to whether I have a medical specialty. I do. It sits somewhere at the intersection of organotech and bioengineering."

"So, would you say you are qualified to evaluate the defendant's physical makeup?"

The corner of Cho's mouth pulled up just a tick. "I don't think anyone on _this_ planet can be honestly said to be qualified for that task. I'm among the few who are _best_ qualified, however."

"Yes, of course. It must help that you had a hand in engineering her enhanced form."

"In as much the same way as Benjamin Franklin holding his kite string was responsible for creating electricity."

There was a small smattering of chuckles throughout the room and Judge Hayford's eyes darted darkly at the noise. "This courtroom will maintain respectful silence and the witness will answer questions plainly."

"Then, no. No, I cannot take credit for engineering the eternal entity currently residing inside of Dr. Bisho. I only provided a conduit for that residence to be assumed."

Kendrick leaned away from the stand and paced the circumference of the floor again. "And please explain to the court what you mean by this."

Cho eyed the US Attorney and then the rest of the courtroom very carefully and finally, after a deep breath, answered. "The entity using Dr. Bisho as a host has existed for longer than we can tell. We call her Mnemosyne, and it is her enhanced biology that instills Dr. Bisho with her ultrahuman abilities. My role in _engineering_ Dr. Bisho's current status as an enhanced individual consisted of ensuring that the bioelectrical transference of Mnemosyne's non-corporeal form-- that is, her cosmic energy-- did not burn up Dr. Bisho's organic form. That and I maintained the stasis of her tissues to prevent decomposition."

Kendrick was a pacer. She couldn't keep still as Cho spoke, even less so when she began edging onto territory Kendrick didn't want touched. Tessa could taste the bitterness of several briefings about witness stand procedure. That explained the gentle wince when Cho said the word 'decomposition.'

"Yes, Mr. Stark mentioned in his press conference that creating his newest superhero involved an act of reanimation," she said as a way of rebuffing the audience's hushed gasps and mutters, in spite of Judge Hayford's warning glare. "But in order to do this, to match this energy with the defendant's physical form, you knew a great deal about the entity and its powers, did you not?"

"We undertook extensive research into Mnemosyne before the possibility of placing it in any human host was even raised. Her existence is--"

"Yes, and please relate for the court your findings on the entity's powers. This will be item number 4b in the evidence log."

Cho glanced down at the phonebook-sized binder just placed in front of her. "Would you like me to read my entire research log that you subpoenaed? Or just the pre-approved highlighted portions?"

"Dr. Cho," Judge Hayford growled, "any more attitude towards Kendrick and you will be considered a hostile witness. Your status as in contempt will then be at my discretion."

"The highlighted portions will suffice, Dr. Cho. I would like to direct the jury's attention particularly to pages 403-7."

After a moment of pure rebellion shining out from Dr. Cho's face, she began to dully read from the fourth of the enormous evidence packets supplied to the participants of the trial. Tessa stared blankly at the defense's copy, its black squiggles divorced from the white of the page by a block of glaring yellow ink. It was unsettling seeing her condition, pieces of what made Tessa who she was now, so clinically described, so distilled into technical terms and concepts. It was even more odd hearing Helen read it aloud in utter monotone. Tessa had heard dictations of residents doing rounds on the coma ward that were more interesting.

"…exhibited the capacity for interrupting and reconfiguring beta waves resulting in different patterns--"

"Please, explain for the layman what the interruption and reconfiguration of beta waves entails, Dr. Cho."

"Beta waves are one of the languages our brains use for memory."

"So… what would the interruption and reconfiguration of that effect?"

Cho sighed, obviously aware of where this was going but unable to redirect. "In layman's terms? Manipulating memories. Here, specifically, stopping the formation of new ones and changing existing ones. This has less dire implications than--"

"Thank you. Please continue with section 182c."

The only sentences Cho was allowed to finish were the ones she had already written many months before, and those were so technically complicated that they hardly meant anything to the audience listening. The only comprehensible information they received from the reading of the evidence was that, first, there was a lot of immensely advanced science behind Tessa's current form and, second, the parts of that complicated science that related to the audience were the ways that Tessa's form was a threat to their memory's integrity and safety. It was masterfully done. By the time Kendrick stepped away from the stand, the room was charged with paranoia.

"Defense, your witness."

Matt stood from beside Tessa. "We have no questions for Dr. Cho at this time, your Honor."

Hayford narrowed his eyes at him and then glanced at his desk. "Very well. Dr. Cho, you are dismissed but are to remain available to the court for the defense's direct examination at a later date. The court will now take a two hour recess." He struck his gavel and then stormed into his chambers, without a second glance.

The courtroom cleared quickly and eventually the bailiff approached to escort Tessa into the lobby of the courthouse where her bodyguard/armed wardens waited. After a bit of a struggle, they navigated the milling crowds to the lunchette before retreating to one of the lesser traveled areas of the courthouse. There were still jeers on occasion as the three of them settled onto a bench, but it was significantly quieter and Tessa could hear snippets of silence time and again in her head. Her guards even had a chance to sit and stare boredly into space. All the same, Tessa couldn't relax. Dr. Cho's orchestrated testimony hadn't exactly left the room with a pro-Mnemosyne vibe. Tessa tugged nervously at her thick, starched, itching sleeves as Matt patiently held the food bag for Foggy, still somehow managing to read over some document with his other hand.

"Complex scientific jargon is the number one tool of prosecutors for fomenting panic in a jury. Big, Latinate words and highly theoretical discussions of things leave people feeling like they can't find a foothold, clueless. And the unknown is always demonized, but that's easily fixed. We're used to it, Tessa. Don't worry. We'll clear all that up on our examination of Dr. Cho. She'll be able to speak without being cut off, tell the whole story in plain language." Foggy coaxed a to-go container into Matt's hands and then passed one to Tessa as well.

"The mood wasn't as dour as I think you took it to be," Matt mumbled. "Dr. Cho's disgruntled participation was difficult for anyone in that room to ignore. The expert being made to restrict their explanation of their findings hardly ever comes off as a good thing. I actually think everything played out in our favor."

Tessa stopped pushing pasta from one side of her to-go container to the other to glance over at Matt. His voice was the warmest and calmest she'd heard it in weeks, his surface memories placid sounds and smells of court infused with confidence. She caught herself half way to brushing her knuckles across his jaw, a deeply ingrained habit from the before time. Instead, Tessa tucked her hair behind her ear and made due with watching him from the corner of her eye. He was holding his fork in his mouth, finishing the page he was on with darting hands, so focused, withdrawn into his own little world, like he often was in their offices. He was so at home in this environment, so comfortable, that she relaxed a little more. It was an interesting jab of fate that only in her most dire situation did Tessa have the opportunity to see Matt in this important aspect of his life.

"Tortellini no good?" Foggy asked, frowning down at Tessa's basically untouched plate and drawing her from her Matt-centered reverie. It almost felt like a slap to the face.

"Oh, no--I mean, it's good. I'm just…"

"Distracted," Matt offered, finally putting away his papers. "You should try to eat, though. This recess will be the last of the day and court doesn't adjourn until five." He reached out and, finding Tessa's hand, directed it back to her fork.

Tessa appreciated the gesture, but she especially appreciated the excuse he'd found to touch her. It was the third of the day, three whole blips of normal-ness. Together with the flashes of old-time Jess-- her droll smirk in the face of horrible shit-- they were almost making the ordeal of the trial worthwhile. In the midst of this unimaginable nightmare, miraculously, Tessa could almost taste her life becoming something close to recognizable again.


	8. Live Wires

"The prosecution calls Anthony Stark to the stand."

A buzz filled the room. Star witness-- Tony Stark was always the star in the room, but this afternoon he was the epitome of the star witness. He was _the_ reason the room was packed, he was _the_ controversial player, he was _the_ celebrity. People wanted to hear what he'd say next, if any news about his feud with Cap would come up, what side he'd actually fall on in this dispute over Tessa's liberty.

Predictably, Stark cut an impressive and demanding figure as he sauntered to the stand. He _looked_ incredible, but he'd held back on the swagger for once, dressed just in his usual high end suit without the flashy adornments. No sunglasses, no Iron Man pieces, just Tony Stark barbered to perfection and with every stitch of clothing immaculate. It was almost enough to keep Tessa from noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the taut look to his face. This conflict, even if it wasn't involving him physically yet, was still taking its toll on Stark physically. And he was there for redemption before it came to real blows.

Judge Hayford cracked down his gavel when the room continued to be filled with murmurs throughout Stark's swearing-in. "The court _will_ maintain silence. … When you will, Ms. Kendrick."

The whispers subsided as Hayford's piercing gaze shot their way. Attention then fell directly and intently upon Stark. He had been sitting at the stand, doing his best impression of an uninvolved bystander. When he wasn't the center of attention, Stark tended to betray the fact that he was, actually, a scientist. He tended to observe. Carefully. As Kendrick took a second to approach the stand, Tony sized up her and the room. Then, the patent Stark smirk made its appearance. Like a predator catching wind of a wounded animal, he was ready to pounce on whatever prey he'd spotted, to apply pressure to whatever structural weakness he'd identified. Tessa sincerely hoped he really was penitent and here to help her now.

"Please state your full name for the record."

"Dr. Anthony Edward Stark. I _am_ a doctor, too, you know. No one acknowledges the fact, but I would appreciate people using that salutation for once. I _did_ put a solid few weeks into getting that degree, after all."

"Yes, of course, and what would you say your expertise is in?"

He shrugged, eyes up on the ceiling as if considering that. "Single expertise? Honestly? … Mechanical engineering. Predictably. I do have my fingers in a _whole lot_ of pies, though. I just recently tried my hand at biochemistry. Successfully, too, if I don't say so myself."

In the back of the courtroom, Tessa could hear the murmurs skittering around again. As a celebrity with a reputation, Stark was incendiary; any little spark could blow the focus of this court to smithereens. It sounded like he'd just about succeeded in lighting the fuse with a tiny piece of information about his personal life. The gossipmongers were going to go into a speculative frenzy over what he could have been doing tinkering with biochemistry. Stark's smile flickered a little wider as the noise mounted. This was his ploy, diversionary tactics, to derail her examination. For once, he was holding to his word. Stark was actually doing something to help Tessa.

As grateful as she wanted to be, Tessa had a hard time feeling truly appreciative for his consideration. This was Stark's fault, on a number of levels. She would not have been there, in that situation, in the position to be in that situation, if it weren't for him. In her book, Tony Stark had three deadly sins to pay for, and testifying on her behalf wasn't going to expiate any of them fully. It was simply what he owed her, the right thing to do. With her friends on her mind, who couldn't be there, whose fate, in a small way, hinged on the proceedings of her trial, Tessa watched Stark masterfully prevaricate against his original position, the one that got them all into this mess.

"… for everyone here the information included under subsection 6e?"

The courtroom filled with the fluttering of pages as evidence binders were flipped through. On the stand, Stark looked quickly over a few pages and shrugged. "That would be my theory on Mnemosyne's mechanics, the physics behind her existence. It's pretty technical."

Beside Tessa, Matt snickered as he read over the evidence. Stark glanced their way for a split second before returning to grin patronizingly at Kendrick. She seemed to stifle a sigh.

"And would you translate, in less technical terms, your expert opinion on the physics of the defendant's existence?"

"Oh, now, that verges on metaphysics. I'm not here to talk to anyone about god." That earned a few chuckles. Stark continued, bolstered by the response. "It was the entity Tessa plays host to whose existence I was theorizing. Basically, it boiled down to her being like the internet. Can you not read my chicken scratch?"

"No, Mr. Stark, unfortunately we could not decipher your shorthand. In fact, several professional linguists declared that it followed no discernible syntactical pattern at all."

"That's because they don't know it. Sorry 'bout that. I'll give you the greatest hits. Mnemosyne is old, as old as this planet, but we can't know that for sure because its corporeal form has been defunct for millennia and it doesn't communicate directly, not with language like we know it. It--or she, rather, she's sentient and identifies as female so far as we can tell--she is memory. I'm not talking in metaphors here, I mean that she is the abstract concept of memory, the force behind it, and without her we'd all be goldfish. We'd have no true memory.

"That's untenable in most scientific circles-- memory stems from electrochemical processes in our brains, it’s a byproduct of advanced organic life, like consciousness-- so, yeah, on one level, such a statement is untenable. And on another level, it isn't. Think about the sun. It's the source of life on this planet, right? Light, heat, all that jazz? Well, bioenergy can produce those things, too: warm blooded animals, phosphorescent sea life, but not on the level of the sun, not at a quantum level, on a cosmic scale. The physics behind our sun allow for and sustain our microcosms of light and warmth and so on. The same holds true for Mnemosyne and our memory. Mnemosyne is the sun, and that time it is a metaphor. She's like a star, except sentient. A conscious generator of mnemonic energy. That's essentially what the first page says."

Stark pushed the evidence binder away from him with a dismissive shrug. There was a beat as Kendrick looked to be considering him. Tessa could feel, though, that she was running through her options for examination of a discreetly hostile witness. "And what kind of toll, hypothetically, could this cosmic force take on human populations? Any solar flares, to continue with your astronomical metaphor?"

"Potential for such things does not equate inevitability, Ms. Kendrick," Stark replied darkly, his flippant tone abandoned.

"But there _is_ a potential. Please, enlighten us."

Tessa could hear the conversation occurring in an adjacent courtroom as Stark glared at Kendrick. Then all of a sudden, a smile swept across his face. "Of course, you see, the ability to create certain energies often comes hand in hand with the cessation those energies' existence. The sun gives life and could take it away in one catastrophic stroke. Mnemosyne maintains memory and can create and destroy memories at her will. That's the beauty of a cosmic force being sentient. Possibility can be eliminated simply by the decision to not do it. Imagine if our sun had the capacity to decide when to do things… I'd say we'd be in reverence of it. Worship it, even… just like civilizations have for eons, and have worshipped Mnemosyne. Power, any way you look at it, has the potential for destruction, but when it's got a mind of its own, that's generally more advantageous to men. It means we can appease it, avoid the destruction outright."

"Are you comparing the defendant to a _god_ , Mr. Stark?"

He glanced Tessa's way and frowned. "Something like what other civilizations have considered divine, but again, better than that, with the outlook and disposition of a human. With the humility of mortality."

"But Dr. Bisho is immortal. Do you disagree with the professional opinion of Dr. Cho?"

"That's not something we can prove. That's Cho's conjecture. And, evidence from our first attempts at an inhibitor demonstrate that she can be injured. The wound still hasn't healed, last I checked. That's a far cry from immortality."

"So, in the defendant, we have a being with the power of a god and the faults of a human, _with the fight or flight response of a mortal creature_. Just what can this killable god do in such a situation to defend herself?"

"Mnemosyne has always been an entity to observe from afar, a passive force. One of the reasons no one really knew a damn thing about her influence."

"Yes, but if it came down to it, if Dr. Bisho with the power of Mnemosyne found herself in a life threatening situation? What kind of havoc could she wreak?"

Stark met Kendrick's eyes and smiled again. "I don't know. It's never happened that we've been able to observe and record."

"But your team has reams of data on the abilities of this entity. How could you not know the threat it poses?"

"All that is conjectural data. We took it from a book of mythology, Asgardian mythology, actually. We took readings of Mnemosyne that suggested she might be capable of certain things, because of electrochemical and magnetic flux around her, but we have no evidence showing her destructive mnemonic force."

"Our experts on the matter don't seem to know very much about this being… What exactly _do_ you and your team know, Mr. Stark?"

"Well, Ms. Kendrick," Tony leaned forward on the stand. "I hate to burst your bubble, but half of science is theory. Gotta have an idea before you can prove it. With Mnemosyne, we've been lucky enough to only prove the ideas that spell out benefits for us. For instance, we theorized that Mnemosyne was a homeostatic agent in human memory, she kept the balance, maintained the cycle of memory. Now, we know that for certain. We know that she has restorative powers, have actually seen damaged neuron receptors repair in her presence."

"So, Mr. Stark, with these evaluations under consideration, would you not advise the future administrative body of the Accords in the United States to include Dr. Tessa Bisho in the scope of its monitoring and regulation procedures?"

Down the table Foggy stood quickly. "Objection, your Honor. Mr. Stark's opinion on this matter is irrelevant to the case at hand."

"Sustained," Hayford grunted.

Stark wasn't required to answer the question, but a good portion of his bravado seemed to have faded.

"And what exactly _have_ you observed and recorded of the entity?" Kendrick continued on, completely unfazed.

"We do know that she definitively has access to memories. Dr. Bisho has been recorded exercising all of what we called Mnemosyne's passive abilities."

"You mean the invasive powers Dr. Cho cataloged for the court earlier?"

Foggy was on his feet again. "Objection! Leading the witness!"

"Sustained. Rephrase your question, counselor."

"Do you refer to powers that Dr. Cho described for the court earlier, that demonstrated the defendant's _unrestricted_ access to people's memories?"

"Yes," Stark begrudgingly answered, his only monosyllabic response.

Kendrick spun on her heel and headed back to the prosecution's bench. "No further questions, your Honor."

"Your witness, counselors."

Matt's chair screeched against the wooden floor as he stood. Stick tapping in front of him, he approached the witness stand, leaving the courtroom in anticipatory silence for far longer than Tessa knew he needed.

"Dr. Stark, how did you record these passive abilities of Dr. Bisho's?"

A pen clicked three times at the nearby table. Stark was grinning again. "A biometric suit designed for Tessa. It was able to map her electrochemical processes and relay them back to us."

"And what was the exact purpose of this suit that you designed?"

"Objection, your Honor. Irrelevant."

Hayford glowered Kendrick's way. "I'll allow it, but the witness will answer only as pertains to the evidence of Dr. Bisho's passive abilities."

"The suit was engineered primarily as a dampening device, to restrict the influx of signals Tessa was receiving. Recording those abilities was our way of monitoring how the dampening was working. Or not."

"So, Dr. Bisho receives these memories involuntarily?"

"Yes, she had a rough few months to begin with. The suit was the only way she could cope."

"To _restrict_ her passive powers?"

"Yes, by our estimation, it was able to dampen up to ninety-six percent of the ambient signals she was receiving."

Matt nodded. "Thank you. The defense has no further questions for the witness at this time, your Honor, although we would like to hold him for direct examination."

"Mr. Stark is dismissed but to be made available for the defense's direct examination at a later date. Prosecution, your next witness."

"The prosecution calls Dr. Bruce Banner to the stand."

As with Stark, the room lit up like a live wire had been stuck into a bathtub. This time, though, it had the distinct edge of fear to it. Iron Man was all glitz, gossip, and glamor, but no one wanted to meet the Hulk. Tessa found that reaction so ridiculous as little Dr. Banner edged his way up to the stand. He was so unimposing compared to Stark and his demeanor so much more even. The courtroom seemed to notice this as well as he was sworn in, falling again to a dead silence, just to hear his soft words. Matt's knee brushed Tessa's and she could _smell_ the fear receding.

"Please, state your full name for the court."

Banner and his cousin fiddled with their glasses in the same way. "Robert Bruce Banner."

"And you are known for quite a number of things, Dr. Banner, but as concerns the entity on trial here, you were most involved in what capacity?"

"As a physicist, counselor, primarily from the angle of the emission spectrum. I have been approaching Dr. Bisho's abilities as an advanced application of particle physics. I postulated the act of exercising her abilities would emit some radiation, either to effect the ability or as a byproduct of the energy consumption of the ability, or both. If it emits within the known spectrum, I would be able to observe quantifiably Dr. Bisho's abilities. I have also been responsible for developing several algorithms by which her biometrics might be converted into media-transferable data."

Kendrick ducked her head briefly, smiling at the jury, as if apologetically, before turning back to Banner. "Would you mind explaining that for a non-scientific audience, please?"

"Oh." Banner looked sincerely shocked for a moment, unfolding and refolding his glasses. "Of course, my apologies… Well, I was tracking the energy output of her non-human processes, to ascertain what the physics were behind them, if she was performing some form of quantum physics or the like as though it were a biological process. And beyond that… I was creating programs, essentially, to transmit the final effect of her passive abilities onto a screen, converting memories into manifest images."

There was a collective murmur behind Tessa, a hostile one.

"And whose idea was it to essentially employ your new asset as an upgraded instantiation of the internet?"

"Initially, when I was first developing the transmission-conversion tool, Dr. Bisho had not yet been killed and made symbiotic with Mnemosyne. She had a condition called hyperthymesia, and an extreme case, she had complete and total recall, a perfect memory. We were attempting to utilize her skill, as a peacekeeping team, to expedite intelligence gathering and security, while simultaneously attempting to map her neural pathways and simulate the biometry of her brain. You see, we believed her cognitive mapping would serve as an excellent template for an AI that could house the waning Mnemosyne. That was the first choice, an android to preserve the human races' capacity for memory."

"Were your efforts successful?"

Dr. Banner seemed to collapse inward even further. "Well, we were able to establish a kind of live feed, in which we could receive Dr. Bisho's memories as her brain formed them, but the transmission process was data heavy and, even with the most advanced transponders, the connection often failed with distance."

"Dr. Banner, is it possible that a similar technology could have been employed once the defendant had the capacity to access other memories, with the result that people's lives and information were broadcasted to an external source beyond the defendant?"

"Early after her… revivification, we were able to employ the technology to transmit memories that Dr. Bisho focused carefully on. The transmissions were spotty and energy expensive, however, and the team's focus was soon diverted to other issues. A wireless adaptor was never moved out of beta nor employed with Dr. Bisho, say, in her dampening suit. The most mobile monitoring system that was ever fully and systematically employed was a background biometric data compiler, which sent logs automatically on a schedule of her neural readings and energy emissions. These could be interpreted later, and with great difficulty, but only on a very broad scale. For instance, I could conclude that she had summoned a memory that was exciting in some way, because it triggered adrenalin, and was accompanied by her particular emissions, but that was the extent of it."

Kendrick laid both hands on the stand. "Please, Dr. Banner, yes or no, is it possible that the defendant's abilities were used to spy on the rest of the world."

"Technically, yes, it is feasible to develop that sort of technology, but, in reality, it couldn't have been done unless by one of our team. And no one has done that. I would have seen it in the system."

As Dr. Banner had replied, Tessa had noticed Kendrick getting antsy. She's wanted to cut him off, but hadn't. Probably, that was because she was too worried that upsetting Banner would bring out his less agreeable side. And so, he'd been able to give a 'yes and no' response to her 'yes or no' question. The same thing happened at least four additional times as Kendrick questioned him. Her questions were clearly designed to elicit circumstantial evidence of Tessa's powers being used to commit the long list of crimes they were charging her with. Banner, though, objective as he was never really answered her the way she needed and instead stuck to the science. She continued to tiptoe around him and, as a result, never really got much out of him except the feeling of quite a lot of technical applications being developed for Tessa's abilities.

"In your logs, then, are there reports of the defendant's memory _altering_ activities?"

"Unfortunately, we were never able to distinguish systematically between the energy signatures of Mnemosyne's passive and active abilities. It required intuition and circumstantial inference to differentiate them. Moreover, the longer the symbiosis has been sustained, the more integrated the biometry of Dr. Bisho's own mnemonic processes and the alien processes have become. I have theorized that the different processes _do_ in fact result in unique byproducts, but that our technology is not advanced enough to detect the differences, or even that our _science_ is not precise enough to distinguish the readings. Most likely our understanding of physics needs to catch up."

Kendrick sighed heavily, the first chink in her armor. It had been a long two hours, walking through the minutiae of Banner's Tessa-centric tech. As opposed to the paranoid, feud-charged room in which Banner's testimony had been introduced, the crowd really just seemed exhausted. Quite a few were downright tuned out.

"No further questions, your Honor." Heavily Kendrick sat down, pen scratching across paper fervently.

"Your witness, defense."

"We have no questions for Dr. Banner at this time, your Honor." There was a smile in Matt's voice, though his face was blank. Tessa heard it immediately.

Hayford nodded, almost looking to be something other than angrily constipated. "Very well. Dr. Banner you are dismissed, but like your fellows today, are to remain available for the defense's examination at a later date." Relief. It was relief on his face, that much was clear in his tone. "This court is adjourned for the day and will reconvene tomorrow morning at 8 am. You are all dismissed."

The gavel cracked through the air and Hayford disappeared into his chambers with a slightly less violent swirl of robes. The rest of the room slowly came back to life before surging toward the exit. Tessa felt like her sinuses were draining of fluid after changing elevations. As the people sifted out, the world became less muted with noise and things came in more crystal clear.

"How are you?" Matt's words fluttered around her, dragging other thoughts, the smells of coffee and Jess's perfume. He was thinking about her apartment.

"Exhausted."

"You did very well, Tessa. Not a peep, not a jump. The perfect defendant."

Tessa was just on the verge of smiling when something tugged at the edge of her mind. A voice she knew that was there but not really there, the twang of a bow string's reverb, and crackling electricity. Tessa whipped around on the spot, looking for a flash of purple and metal, looking for Clint, before realizing all those memories were from an outside perspective. The sea of people thronging through the doors was too difficult for her to navigate, she couldn't find the owner, their mind apparently now dwelling on other things.

"Tessa?"

She rubbed at where her handcuffs had just bitten into her wrist and gave up the search. "I'm fine. Just… something caught my attention."

Matt's glasses glowed deep red from the late afternoon light outside as he turned to the door, also searching. With a shake of his head he looked back to her. He hadn't picked anyone out either. "Perhaps you'll find out tomorrow," he muttered cryptically as the bailiff approached.

"Find out what?" Foggy asked, his briefcase finally packed, phone underlighting his face.

"Someone was trying to get Tessa's attention. She wasn't able to discover who." 

"Huh. Well, Karen's been trying to-- holy Christ."

As Tessa's armed escort took over for the bailiff in the atrium, another wave of court-goers opened the exterior doors of the courthouse. And as they did, a wave of noise rolled inside, so loud it drowned out the other sounds, accompanied by camera flashes and the red and blue of police lights.

"The paparazzi…" Matt huffed darkly.

"It's worse than this morning. What a mob…" Foggy was just starting to get that worn look around his eyes that meant stress was taking over, when a familiar voice carried over the uproar.

"Hey, you three got a ride lined up yet?" It was Luke, Jess a few steps ahead of him. "'Cause we do. Your knights in shining armor are only for here, right?"

"We're not her babysitters, Cage," one of them grunted, giving Luke a look that said he knew more than his name. "Not here for her, either. Just making sure justice is served civil-like. Take her if you want. No skin off our back if she doesn't last until tomorrow."

Next to her, Matt seized up some, the grip on his cane creaking as he squeezed. Foggy cleared his throat, though, and defused the situation. "Public body guard to private body guard seems like a reasonable trade. Thanks, fellas!" He clapped a hand on Matt's back and steered him and Tessa towards Luke. "A trade up…"

Luke scoffed, glaring behind them for an extra moment or so before pointing down the hallway to a smaller exit. Outside the evening was crisp, smelled like street food and grass. Best part though, it was mostly deserted on this side of the courthouse. "Hurry now. Car's this way. Figured you'd like a break from the bigots, little one, so I called a friend of mine."

" _I_ called a friend of _ours_ ," Danny corrected, leaning away from the sedan and opening the back door. "Jamie's a great driver, and better yet, a great person."

"Uh… are you rich, Danny? Th--that's like a faux pas to ask, I know, but…" Tessa slid into the car, trying to balance without her hands to steady her. She didn't get far. Looking around at the mini fridge and multiple inset LED screens, shock and lack of use of her hands left her tipping her over. Luke righted her immediately and then buckled her in, snickering at the question.

"Depends on your def--"

"Yeah, little one. He's rolling in it. Everybody in?" Luke glanced around the car and then slid open the partition. "We're good, Jamie. And, just in time, too…"

Outside the windows, heavily tinted as they were, the flashes of cameras began peppering the twilight. The side door exit technique had given them just enough time. Hopefully the ubiquitous black sedan would keep them from being followed home by some. They could certainly use a break from the influx. Enough had already done their homework and were camped outside Jess's building.

"So, that was…" Jess was clearly searching for a word that was negative without sounding too pessimistic.

Matt relieved her of that task. "Surprisingly uneventful."

"Uh… yeah. Not what I was gonna say, but yeah. I expected more big show from… well, from everyone involved."

"Kendrick isn't whole hog on this one," Foggy said, typing madly on his phone. "Good news for us."

"Is every day going to be that long?"

"Yes. This isn't going to be an easy process. We don't expect anyone outside of the trial participants to attend every day." Matt was trying to sound casual, but his words were clipped. He was still roiling at the armed escort's comment.

Tessa had that pressure behind her eyes that, before she died, used to mean that she was going to get a headache soon. It was the stress. She took a deep breath and stared out the window, watching the dimmed circles of lights float across its tinted surface. It was so quiet in the car. She wished the rest of the city could be this quiet.

Unfortunately, that was impossible, made more so by the news people who did their research, which turned out to be a large majority of them. Tessa had a crowd waiting for her, coating the sidewalk and slowing traffic, outside the apartment.

"Seriously. These people need to learn boundaries." Luke hurled the door open and pushed into the mass of bodies before the car had even stopped. Jess followed, half carrying Tessa with her. They parted around Luke, shoving in to scream questions, but keeping their distance. He was a very large, very intimidating man. Tessa was so grateful for that. Also for the extreme death stare Jess was using. She didn't get assaulted once en route this round, which was a plus.

"I hope they get bored of this fast," Jess grumbled, inside the atrium as they waited for Danny to escort Matt and Foggy through to them. "Everyone knowing where I live isn't making me feel any less paranoid. And… much as I like the law boys, I don't want 'em around 24/7."

"They won't be 'round for long, Jess. Just 'til these fuckers get bored and thin out. Think about it, though. Guy's blind, he can't have people mobbing him at his home. It's better they're here. Otherwise, could get dangerous. Hold on. I'll go get Olie." Luke cracked his neck and then charged back out into the teeming mob, this time heading for the unmarked van on the corner.  

Tessa watched him go, wondering how in the fuck they'd be managing this without him. "When all this is over, I'm baking that man eight dozen cookies."

"Yeah, he's a winner, huh?" Jess was watching him go as well, a completely different set of thoughts playing across her face.

There were several dozen things that Tessa wanted to say just then, most of them ill-suited to the mood and the day, but that wasn't what stopped her. Something familiar, something hauntingly familiar whispered at the edge of her mind and demanded her attention. By the time she focused on it, four blocks away, its source had vanished, just leaving the memory amidst the smell of moistened glue and the sensation of scraping bricks in the walls of an alley. A dead drop. Tessa knew it instantly. There was a package waiting for her outside a bank below an electrical box.

"…than kids at Disneyworld. I swear. And handsy. You get groped like that coming in?"

"You just don't cut as impressive a figure as me and Luke, Danny. Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I got these guys inside all the same. You two alright? Tell Luke I'm waiting in the car, but he's only got nine minutes." Danny steeled himself and then slipped back out the door, more weaving in and out of people than cutting a path.

Jess, meanwhile, helped Foggy straighten out. He looked like he had, in fact, been groped. Fighting to get his jacket back on his shoulder, he was dialing his phone, somehow looking more frantic than in the car. Matt didn't have a hair out of place, which didn't so much surprise Tessa than impress her. She wanted to tell him about the dead drop-- they had coded ways of talking about stuff like that now-- but just then Olie came inside and immediately her priority became not being handcuffed.

"Yeah, yeah. Your personal jeweler's here, Bisho. Come here, your twelve hour rental was up half an hour ago."

"Trust me, Olie. I didn't want to be overdue. They're all yours…" Hands clicked free, Tessa raised them above her head and then shook her arms out. It felt incredible to let her shoulders relax. And, she could finally scratch that itch beneath her disruptor headband that had been harrying her since around lunchtime. "You don't happen to have another client to recall this thing for, do ya?"

She scoffed. "Nah, Bisho. That one's a custom, only for you. Kinda makes my job a little redundant, but hey… I'm just a fish in the Bureau's eyes. I'm lucky to even be on assignment in the field, much less something high profile like this. This detail's a little boring, _you're_ a little boring actually, but the hours stack up all the same and pay is pay. Can't complain." The cuffs swung around her finger and Olie headed for the door. "I'll see you in the morning, and don't forget it's your turn for the coffee run. After a night like this one looks it'll be, I'll want mine with a couple shots of espresso."

"You got it, Olie." Tessa nodded at the fed's wink. "You know, when this is all over I think we need to take her out for-- drinks…" Her words trailed off as Tessa noticed her intended audience was not at all listening to her. Jess was instead sneaking a very not secret kiss from Luke. Embarrassment burning at her cheeks, Tessa turned away and shuffled to stare blankly at the mailboxes. She was happy for Jess, but deeply uncomfortable at the voyeurism she'd just experienced.

"I'll be at the bar if you need anything." Speaking meant they weren't sucking each others' faces, so Tessa gave up her fake examination of their neighbors' names. Luke was twirling a piece of Jess's hair around his fingers as he spoke. Tessa had to stifle a sigh.

"Your elevator's out, I think."

Tessa whipped around, found Matt at her shoulder. Something between amusement and frustration pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"I'd ask _Foggy_ to come up the stairs, but…"

Following his raised eyebrows, Tessa caught sight of Foggy speaking in hushed but stressed tones into his phone on the other side of the lobby. He noticed them looking at him and raised a hand. "Two minutes, Matt. I'll come up with you in two minutes."

Tessa held out her elbow. "That's fine. I'm the one with the key anyways. Come on…"

Matt, of course, in no way required accompaniment in the stairwell. They were up the first flight in a matter of moments. When they reached the landing, he stepped to one side and pulled Tessa with him, wrapping her in a hug. He squeezed with an intensity Tessa gauged as painful for a split second, then the world went dark. The stairwell reappeared, but the ground felt like it gave way. Tessa realized, though, her knees had been the ones to give out. Matt steadied her by the elbows as she found her footing again.

 

"Are you alright?" He whispered, hand dancing over her face.

Words escaped her at the moment, her mind utterly taxed. So, Tessa just wrapped her arms around him this time and squeezed. Her face in his chest, she breathed him in, foregoing all the responses that finally began fluttering around her head in favor of clinging to this stolen moment. She felt his lips and nose in her hair briefly, for just a second, before he jerked up and gently ended their moment. Her bag, which she hadn't noticed slipped from her shoulder, spilled down the steps behind them. Tessa rolled her eyes, straightening his tie, and then stooped down to start pick up her scattered belongings. She had help, of course, Matt was cleaning up his mess, hand brushing hers with every feel for items. Tessa just managed to stem the tears once she heard Foggy's footfalls a few steps below and then Jess's.

"God, you two have an accident?" She scoffed, picking up Tessa's keys from between some slats.

"I tripped… clumsy, you know. I think it's these stupid new shoes..."

"What were we thinking? Leaving the blind guy and the klutz, who's in heels for the first time ever, to navigate inspection-failing stairs on their own?"

Everyone chuckled, the first of the day, but Tessa noticed the suspicious look that Foggy gave Matt as they headed up to the apartment. That moment had been stolen at great risk. The conversation turned casual, talking about hunger and aching feet, and away from the little scene down the stairs, but Tessa could feel Foggy ruminating on it, on it and other things he'd noticed about Matt around Tessa. The jig might be up soon. Until his phone chirruped again and the memories were dropped. Saved by the bell. The text notification, really, but whatever.


	9. Time Travel

It smelled like stale coffee and sadness inside their apartment. For a split second, Tessa felt her molecules tugged a few miles southwestward, so strong was that particular smell, that sense memory connected with Clint's apartment. Jess sighed, half embarrassed by the wreck, but also 100% too tired to deal with it. So, she just pushed the piles of unopened mail and dirty dishes off the table and onto the floor.

"Sorry about the mess… Time--and motivation-- is a scarce resource around here these days. Make yourselves at home." She grabbed a bottle of whiskey that was just sitting open on the floor beside her chair and took a long swig. Her laptop pulled her way, Jess dove into emails and research, listening to voicemails as she did.

Tessa knew the gathered brow of work-Jess, the spastic typing and habitual drinking that accompanied this mode, so she gave up any discussion of cleaning and just collapsed on the couch. Jess hadn't been the only one without motivation to do life things of late. For a minute she deluded herself that she might just sit and enjoy the relative calm of the evening, but soon found her mind too active to fully entertain that idea. Foggy was gazing out the window, talking in low, tense tones to someone. After a moment of eavesdropping, Tessa deduced it was Karen. It sounded like something not so great was happening, probably the same development that had been plaguing Foggy since they left the courthouse. Across the room, the quiet monotone of Matt's phone went silent and instead his pacing picked up. He must have received the same news.

"No, no. She--she was there yesterday. I _spoke_ to her yesterday. … Yeah, that number. … What do you mean? Well, call them-- That's my other line. Hold on. … Hello? … No, you're not supposed to-- Argh!" Foggy shook his phone angrily, before looking up at the rest of the room.

Tessa decided it was time to do something other than eavesdrop on everyone else's business. The television remote was there. Right there. So, she flipped it on. Just in time for the evening news.

"I wouldn't have the cable networks on," Matt said quietly, sitting down beside her. He opened his bag and pulled out a packet, flipping through to a particular page and scanning over it, also working. "You were in court all day, you don't want to hear about it all evening. Promise."

"Yeah, well… I have to do something. It's not like I can throw myself into work, like everyone else."

Matt gave her a small shrug and continued reading. Tessa, feeling pointless, useless and horribly bored, decided to be stubborn and watch cable.

"… have coined the term 'mnemomancer' to describe the defendant, her powers somewhere in between magic and quantum physics and about as comprehensible to the average joe as the two of them put together. And yes, you do recognize that last part of the term, 'mancer'. It's used with other words like 'necromancer' and generally cues a discussion of things largely considered fictional that people have no right to mess with in the real world. Clearly, much like other events in the headlines these days, this is a case of someone playing with forces they have no right to and that'll adversely affect the population around them--"

"Whelp… that was a mistake," Tessa muttered. "Brutal much?" Matt had been right, she didn't want to spend her evening hearing that. The television flipped off and Tessa sighed, left twiddling her thumbs again.

She watched Matt read for a little while instead, masking her appreciation of his proximity with fascination of braille reading. Even that got old fast. She was fidgety, wanting to talk with him about so many things. He was right there, Matt was right there, but with the others around she had to treat him just as her counsel. Then, hearing the butcher paper of that morning's donuts rustle behind her, Tessa realized it had been a little over six hours since they'd last eaten. That was something she could do, something productive. Time to cook dinner.

"You like risotto?" She asked Matt, already knowing the answer.

"Love it."

"Jess?"

"Mmph," Jess grunted back, not really paying attention to what was asked. Tessa assumed if she made it, Jess would shovel it into her mouth.

Foggy was speaking heatedly into his phone, hands gesticulating. Tessa decided he would like it just fine. Probably. Better to not interrupt him right then. Risotto it was. At least that would keep her hands busy. That was for the best, because idle hands… how did the saying go? Something about the devil's playground.  She wished. Tessa swallowed a sigh and continued chopping mushrooms, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder at him. Another joke in the catalog. When Tessa finally had the opportunity to speak with Matt openly again, she would drown him with bad puns and the like.

Broth hit the screaming hot pan and gave off a fragrant steam. It smelled less like Clint's place and more like theirs again. Jess wasn't at home anywhere that didn't smell like food of some type. For a while, Tessa had sworn there was a bacon scented candle hidden in the apartment. Instead, it had been a year old jar of bacon grease in a random cabinet.

"Aw damn, chica." Jess stepped up beside her, taking a gigantic swig from the leftover wine. "So this is what you meant by risotto."

"Yeah. That I'm making risotto…"

"Bummer. I gotta go." She looped an arm around Tessa, pulling her into an awkward scrunched sidehug. Jess's strengths did not include physical contact as comfort, at least not platonically. "Can't believe I'm missing out on risotto night but-- um… But, yeah. You'll be okay here with the law bros, right? I've got some surveillance to take care of tonight, to pay the bills and whatnot."

Tessa caught a snippet of something that most certainly was nothing to do with paying bills. Maybe with whatnot. "Uh-huh. And see Luke…"

That earned a sheepish grin. "You mad?"

"Nah. I'm fine… And, in case I haven't said it yet, or said it enough, or if my own shit has just… shat all over it… uh, I'm happy for you. You deserve this. Really. I mean, I'm a little jealous and having a hard time looking past my own situation, but underneath all that prickling resentment, I'm happy for you. At least one of us is more or less all right at any point in time."

"Yeah. If it were both of us, you know, the world would implode. You're done with this, right? I can take this." Jess sloshed the white wine bottle again.

"Sure, Jess. Go for it."

"Thanks. You were a trooper today, I was impressed. Text me if you need something and we'll drink me stupid tomorrow night, and not on leftover cooking wine. Promise. Matt, Fog, see your sorry mugs in the morning…"

"Goodnight, Jessica," Matt said quietly, standing and taking her seat at the table.

Foggy waved a minute or so late, still caught up in his dilemma. Actually, he was more than caught up. Foggy was downright immersed in the piqued conversation he was having. The distressed hand gestures continued and intensified with the escalating ire in his voice. That kept up for a startlingly long time, as long as it takes to stir a risotto to near perfection. The apartment was filled with the tangy smell of sun dried tomatoes, the richness of olive oil, and that earthy savory of mushrooms and Foggy hadn't commented once on the meal. It had to be serious.  Looking over her shoulder, Tessa figured Foggy didn't even see whatever it was he was glaring out towards from the window. A check on Matt told Tessa it wasn't quite time to freak out over whatever Foggy was, but it was hard. His tone was becoming increasingly more distressed and his words more charged with urgency.

"Yes, I spoke with Mr. Peterson as did our admin and-- … No, that's unacceptable. I don't understand. How do you just _lose_ a living person? … No, that wasn't. I was really asking. How, as a care facility, do you just lose a person?"

Tessa cleared her throat and added the final sprinkles of seasoning. "So, what would you two like to take with the risotto? Tea? Water? Wine? … Scotch?"

"Damnit!"

Matt waited a moment after Foggy's outburst and then quietly responded to Tessa. "If you're making tea, I'll have that. Otherwise, water. Thank you."

"Oh, shit… Tessa, you made a whole meal and everything. I… I can't believe… Sorry about checking out there for a while. There's a--a--a small problem… that needs resolving. Shit. Uh, god, I guess I have to battle through the crazies out there." Foggy frowned out the window one more time before beginning to hurriedly shove his belongings into his bag. "Are you okay to stick around on your own for a while, Matt? I've--I'm just going to go out to Dusk Oaks. There's no way Ms. Wiemer just up and vanished. I'll, uh, tell Olie it's you up here. Ugh. Sorry, Tessa. Aw man… and I _love_ risotto… damnit!"

He gave one forlorn look at the steaming pan and then seemed to haul himself to the door. "I'll see you in the morning. Get some sleep, alright?"

There was a solid two minutes of perfect silence after the door snapped shut behind him. Tessa's mind was reeling with the consequences of this sudden development, of Foggy's unexpected departure. Dinner was made, hot and hopefully delicious in the pan in her hand. She needed to _not_ drop it on the ground. It needed to come off the fire and be spooned onto plates, but Tessa's body wasn't responding well. It was still stuck frozen with the part of her mind that was comprehending the fact that she was alone with Matt, and would continue to be alone with him nearly indefinitely, in a normal private situation, for the first time in months. They were alone in her apartment and she'd just made dinner. Out of the blue this evening, the end of the day that had started out as her worst yet, had suddenly turned into her best opportunity in weeks to have her old life back for a short time. 

Laughter, ragged and fueled by hysterical giddiness, burst from her. The pan clattered onto the stove and Tessa flipped off the fire, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't believe it. This turn of events was too much for her strained emotional state. Disbelieving laughter was all she could muster. But, as quickly as it had bubbled up, that laughter melted away and left just the tears. Tessa couldn't tell if they were from relief, gratefulness, grief, or exhaustion, and she certainly couldn't stem them. So, she just blinked through them and choked back the sobs as she scooped the risotto onto plates. Silverware jingled behind her and Tessa realized that Matt was setting the table. There was already a kettle of water on the stove. He must have put that on while she was in her weird daze.

"This smells amazing, Tessa." Time had leapt forward again. Matt was already pouring the hot water into her teapot but she was still staring at the risotto. Gently, he took the plates from her hands and set them on the table.

"Sugar, no milk, right?" Again, she had zoned out. The tea was steeped and Matt was rolling up his sleeves, suit jacket already neatly folded and laid over the back of the couch.

"Ri--right. I'm… I'm sorry… I… think I'm in shock…"

Matt paused. His expression shivered for a moment and then broke. Whatever calm he'd been stubbornly pretending cracked and gave way to pain. The spoon fell back into the sugar pot as he turned off the lights. Tessa heard just the quiet creak of the floorboards as he crossed the kitchen and hugged her to his chest. For the second time that evening, it was almost painful how tightly he held onto her, like she was slipping from his grasp at some great height. She wrapped her arms around him just as tightly, holding on for dear life.

Countless minutes passed. They stood in the dark in that kitchen, freshly prepared meal cooling while they held each other. Tessa blocked out everything else, focused on engraining every sensation in perfect clarity. The bite of a button into her cheek bone as the cotton of his shirt warmed between them. The smell of Danny's car services' air freshener that clung to his shirt. The slowing thump of his heart under her cheek. The single warm tear that fell into her hair.

When she had stopped crying, Tessa buried her face harder into his chest, finding that Matt smell. Not cologne or detergent, but the subtler one she could catch on herself in the morning, or used to. It made her feel calm and simultaneously like her heart was going to pound out of her chest. That, at least, hadn't changed at all.

"You okay?" Matt leaned back a little. He'd felt her pulse pick up.

"Just my, uh, body reacting to being near you again. It… missed you."

" _It_?"

"You know what I mean." She wiped her face dry. "I missed you, too, obviously, but _I_ can… control how I express that."

"Yes, you've done a very good job doing just that. Even I can't tell sometimes." He drew a ragged breath. "Honestly, it hasn't stopped hurting… not sensing you react when I… well," he laughed at himself a little, "when I do anything. It's unsettling, you treating me just like anyone else. I--I can't really say I like it, but it's good you're able to--to do it so well."

That was ridiculous to Tessa, that Matt had to be pleased at her ability to ignore him. Also that she had been successful to any degree. Especially since, right then, not for the life of her could Tessa unlace her fingers and pry her arms from around his waist. The door could fly open and all the people in the world could funnel in to stare and still Tessa would have stayed standing there, clinging to Matt. "It takes the greater majority of my willpower. It's why I'm so exhausted every day. Though… and I don't know what this says about my moral standing, the pretending is getting easier. Not the actual being apart from you, but the… whole… lying to everyone by omission thing… that's getting to be more second nature. And that makes me sick."

His hand, that had been holding her head to his chest, worked fingers into her hair gently. "I know the feeling. I'd love to tell you it gets better, but…"

"Yeah. I figured it doesn't."

"Consolation: it's for a good reason."

"I guess… Damn, this would be easier if I could get this kind of comfort and support on a daily basis. Preferably, with the accompanying hug."

She could feel Matt's chuckle rattle in her teeth. "Wouldn't it? But, that would make this too unlike torture, and I imagine that would have its own… repercussions, eventually."

"You are _so_ Catholic sometimes," Tessa sighed, his predestination-fueled comment finally unlocking her grasp on him. "Do you think I deserve this?"

"No. Not you. And... I don't think it's about punishing me either, despite the fact that it is a particularly effective version of my Hell… and yours too, I assume. No, but I do think… I _believe_ it's happening for a reason, that there's a purpose behind it."

"I hope so. I hope that either this is penance enough for whatever… or that its other, nicer purpose comes around sooner rather than later. 'Cause I'd really like to think that my immortality could afford me something like immunity from eternal torture." She rubbed at the tear stain on his shirt, visible even in the darkness. 

Another deep sigh. "Does this feel like eternal torture to you?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. A lot of it is... just worse than I had ever imagined, but not... torture? Maybe. Not right this moment, though." Tessa leaned away, letting Matt holding her upright for the most part, and spread her hands out over his chest and torso, feeling the sinew and muscle moving underneath as he breathed. "No, this isn't torture. This is...  I've wanted this. I've wanted to... I miss you... to a painful degree."

"Tessa…" Matt's tone was hesitant, but she had learned a few things from him. Like, how, when his breathing hitched like it had just then, 'wait', didn't necessarily mean 'no.' Right then, his hands only corroborated her suspicions, their accomplice the kiss to the inside of her wrist.

"It wasn't fair. It was pretty much the worst timing, actually, Stark's announcement. We'd just gotten through my twenty steps, had twenty four hours together without any kind of limitations and then, blam! My life exploded in my face. That's insensitive to what else happened that day, I know this… but I'm having a hard time seeing past my shit right now… It's just… It's not fair. We worked so hard for all this… we _earned_ our time together, in whatever capacity we wanted to spend it and I hate that the world has restricted that… has basically entirely taken that away."

Matt was quiet for a few seconds after Tessa left off ranting. His mouth looked to be working over words that he never got around to saying. Finally, he settled for, "it was meant to be _entirely_ removed… but I am _so_  grateful it wasn't. I am so relieved that I remember. Because now…" One hand ran up her waist, then neck to find her lips, to run a thumb over them. Then, after a weighted pause, he exhaled deeply and took a step away, flipping the lights back on. "Because now, we can have this meal. Together. Take a break from the charade. It'll be like the past three months or so never happened."

His hands settled on his hips, his movements forced and stiff. Tessa stared at those hands, fingers locked in place atop his shirt and belt and pants, all that clothing, and not onto her naked waist. How anticlimactic. "Right. Uh… Right. So, uh, you know all this can be microwaved and still be basically just as good, right?"

Oh, how Tessa had missed that particular grin, the way that dimple appeared out of nowhere, the way those lips parted just a little before stretching into sinful twin curves. "I do know. But… but I also know, that… letting it get cold isn't a good idea."

He took a step away when Tessa stepped closer. "Why not?"

"Be--because… uh… St--stay over there. I can't think when you're this close like this. Please." Tessa crossed her arms and stopped trying to close the distance between them. "Thank you. Um, we don't know when Jessica will be back, first problem. Second… we've had enough trouble with our _… sexual energy_ situation, without stoking those flames directly again. And third… Foggy is already suspicious and if something happened I would… not be in the _state of mind_ to successfully deter his suspicions tomorrow."

Tessa heaved a big sigh. "Ah, unresolved sexual tension and a hurried meal between long days and longer nights. You're completely right. If I work really hard, it's like the last three plus months never happened. Man, time travel would've been a much handier power. Goddess of time travel, that would've been nice. Less terrifying for everyone else, too."

"Tessa. I know it's… it's not _ideal_. Trust me, I _know_. But it's better than nothing. So…" Matt dropped his defensive posture and reached for his bag, pulling out his phone and clicking through its options quickly. "Let's live in that fantasy for a few hours, shall we?"  

"Not exactly my idea of a fantas--" but Tessa's words died on her lips as Matt's phone began playing those of Douglas Adams. _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ picked right back up where they had stopped it all those days ago, when they hadn't been able to pay attention to it any longer, on that morning spent entirely in bed, in the naked hazy fog of the day after her birthday. He'd kept that place saved.

Tessa felt her eyes welling up again, and when she approached him this time, Matt let her, wrapping his arms back around her and setting his chin on top of her head. "I couldn't finish listening to it without you."

"The lights're on," Tessa grumbled, pulling away from him and grabbing the dinner plates.

"Very true."

She set the timer on the microwave and accepted the teacup from him. "So, don't let these tears and mucus fool you. I would have immediately jumped your bones after that kind of… of gesture, had the lights not been on…"

"Oh, I know… Just like if Jessica had told you where she was going, what she was doing, or when she'd be back, we'd be naked on the floor right now, cold risotto… _everywhere_ …"

"What about problems two and three?"

"Just half-baked rationalizations. It's a miracle my mind cooked up any, state I was in. Am in." He leaned against the counter with her, smoothing his tie down. "I've missed you, too, Tessa. And more than just in _that_ way."

Eyes closed, Tessa pressed her cheek into his hand. After the microwave beeped and she exchanged plates for cups, she reached up and tugged at his hair. "About time for a haircut," she said, tucking it down around his ears.

"Yeah, it's catching on my collar… Wanna take care of that for me?"

She snorted, "not my forte, scruffy, I'd probably make it worse. And, you know? I think I may like it… or probably I've just missed the feel of it." Tessa ran her fingers through his hair a few more times, failing to stop the smile that pulled at her lips. "These ears," she chuckled and tugged on one fondly. "They're so red right now. Your blood pressure must be through the roof."

"It's just being alone with you," he murmured, voice somewhere between sleepy and husky.

"Mm. Well, we _are_ alone, so, I don't think you need these…" Tessa slipped his glasses off and set them aside. He had dark circles under his eyes and a cut beneath one eyebrow that those glasses had conveniently hidden. "You're tired, Matt… Please tell me you're not wearing yourself too thin."

"Just have a lot on my mind lately…" Another grin, the kind he saved for when he was saddest, hurting the most. Tessa could always see that pain stick around his brow.

"Liar. That's not all… but, I won't push you. I do want to know, though, how you stay so calm, act so blasé with all this... All day, things just rolled off of you. Almost everything. It's amazing. I know you're not impervious, so how have been doing this?"

"I… I'm not. I'm not calm. I don't just shrug it off. It's… it's all just a mask. But you knew that."

"Me, Foggy maybe, but that's all who knows. A good mask, Matt."

"I'm worried it'll crack soon. I'm fighting a losing battle, Tessa. The same as always. But, it's… it's getting stronger, harder to quell."

Tessa turned off the microwave but left the tea inside. "What is?"

"The rage inside me… my… my devil." He muttered the last bit like he was embarrassed to verbalize the thought.

"There's no demon inside of you, Matt. Just anger, anger that you're completely justified in having." She grabbed his shoulder when he started to turn away. "I know you have your guilt and you'll never not have it, but it doesn't need to touch this. I'm glad that you're angry-- not _glad_ , but I appreciate it. I'm angry and I can't do anything about it, but you can. You are. I'm glad for that."

"That's exactly why I can't give into it. You need me calm. You need me rational and composed, as Matt Murdock. Daredevil can't do a damned thing for you, and neither can I when I'm angry, _really_ angry."

Tessa had to concede that to him. She dropped her hand, but Matt wasn't trying to hide anymore. He moved instead to grab their plates, the food on them already cold again, and put them back in the microwave.

"Well, if it's any consolation, it does seem like whatever you're doing to stop it is working for now. You meditating?"

"Some. Mostly, it's just the beating the shit outta dickheads. And there are plenty of them out there now to keep me centered."

Tessa frowned. "More than usual?"

"Maybe not more, but certainly better organized. Some crime boss with his hands on drugs or… magic is trying to fill Fisk's shoes. And he's doing a disturbingly good job of it, all things considered. Of course, the fact that the big name superheroes are either on the bench or off hunting down an AWOL friend just fuels this, but a month or so ago a big… syndicate, so far as I've been able to find out, dissolved, put the brakes on the underworld reforming. Some boss with his own set of superpowers was removed from the equation. Kilgrave. Made recruiting more difficult, it seems."

Tessa walked them over to the table, plates of food again steaming in hand. "Makes sense. I'm glad Jess finally took care of that."

"What? You knew?"

"Well… uh, yes. No one knew I knew, but… I knew. There was some history there, needed taking care of. It all ties back together. He was an old… well, let's call him was he was, an old source of trauma of Jess's, come back to re-traumatize, and eventually capitalize. So yeah, her weirdness? Kilgrave was the reason. He had… some mind control shit. Could make people do anything he suggested. Was systematically controlling people to ruin her life. Well, not Jess herself. And not anybody anymore. Jess saw to that." Tessa smiled, a cold pleasure swelling in her chest for Jess. "Even better that she took out a crime boss in the process."

"One of this new one's collaborators. So… That rumble on the docks that no one's mentioning in polite company, that was her? Do I want to know how she resolved it?"

Tessa strategically filled her mouth with risotto as he asked. "Prob'ly not."

"Then, I won't ask," Matt replied quietly, giving a little nod. "Well, that explains why I keep hearing whispers of Alias Investigations around. You want something weird taken care of, you call Jessica Jones."

"That should be her tagline, yeah."

Matt chuckled. "Satisfied customer recommendations are the best way to bring in business. I wish Foggy and I could manage something like that--well, not _quite_ like that."

"You mean, like my trial?" Tessa asked and wished she hadn't. Matt's face fell immediately. He'd forgotten, in the peaceful eye of their domestic chat, he'd forgotten about the shitstorm raging around them. "Sorry. But… Yeah. Clients should be coming in after this, right?"

"I'd… I'd say so," he sighed and pushed away his plate. "I'd… Let's not…"

"Got it, Matt. I won't bring it up again. I'd rather not think about it either. So… Yeah. Uh, what else do you know about this new boss? Maybe I can… do nothing for you, because I have this fucking Tron headband on."

Matt pulled her hand away from the disruptor. "Don't do that to yourself, Tessa. I doubt you could have done anything anyway. He's going by an alias. Calls himself the Hood. And I'm pretty sure he's using magic. Drugs I can smell… With this guy and his people… I can't sense anything."

"That's… unnerving. I don't like magic, skeeves me out-- what? What are you giggling about?"

"You don't like magic? _You_? You're powers are magical."

"Uh… I prefer to think of them as Dr. Banner does, as quantum physical… which… incidentally, is also how he describes Wanda's powers, so… Whatever. I'm a hypocrite. Magic makes me squirm." She left Matt to finish chuckling to himself and continued, "anyhow, _speaking_ _of sensing_ …"

"I was just about to ask you that. What was is that you picked up in court?"

Tessa hesitated. There was a good chance Matt wouldn't like this part, their history with this as it was, but he'd also know if she lied. So, here went nothing. "Clint. I picked up… Clint."

Matt was fighting hard to control his reaction. "He was there today?" His words were perfectly even, no stress on any particular syllable. Hiding the reaction.

"No. I don't think so. After I got over the shock of it, I realized the memories were from an outside perspective, someone remembering Clint. On purpose. There's no reason someone would come to that courtroom, wait through a full day of proceedings, and then _randomly_ think about Hawkeye running his big mouth and firing off a zappy arrow as they were leaving. It had to be purposeful, to catch my attention. Besides, normal people don't see Hawkeye in action like that up close and personal, especially not lately. He's in Cap's crew, he's operating under the radar. It… it had to be--"

"Natasha," Matt muttered, another name he didn't want to hear. He couldn't control his reaction this time.

"I… I think so, yes. Especially since while we were downstairs, in the atrium, I blipped on something again, something purposefully remembered, remembered intensely, so my attention would be grabbed."

Tessa didn't want to mention what, didn't want to describe to Matt, in his current mood, the feeling of wind rushing through hair, arms clasped tight around a waist and the sound of Tessa's laughter breaking in over the rev of the engine beneath them. The feeling of weightless joy that had accompanied all that. A cruel memory Natasha had left as a beacon for Tessa. That dead drop had to be important.

"What was she catching your attention for?"

"She left something for me. A dead drop. Someone needs to pick it up."

Matt sighed, standing. "Know what it is?"

"No, but--" Tess grabbed his arm. "It can wait. This… _this_ is more important to me. Please?"

He smiled. "Okay… I'm glad you think so… Can I have my arm now? I'd like to heat this back up. Again." He nodded to the plate in his other hand now.

"Oh. I… I… I thought you were going to go vigilante mailman on me."

"And maybe I will later. Not now, though. You're right, _this_ is much more important. You don't get to be yourself enough. Your whole self… Including the part that worries about everyone. _Everyone_. So, how is Barton?"

"I… I didn't check in. I can't, not without proximity with this thing." Tessa flicked the inhibitor. "It makes the reception all… fuzzy. I do know he's alive, and his teammates, that much I can work out through the static."

"Hmm. Well, at least you know that." His mood had improved significantly. Rage and envy, Tessa thought to herself, those were Matt's two deadly sins. "Can you get at whatever the hell Natasha is plotting? I'm surprised with her using Barton as your bait, considering where she threw in her lot."

"I can't… She's basically invisible from me. I think she might be using some shielding like Tony was in the courtroom today."

"They have shielding against you now?"

"Well, with this inhibitor on, yes. He was dead silent in there today. It was refreshing."

Matt gave her a dry smile as he sat back down with his risotto, appetite returned. "Guess you'll have to wait to find out what her surprise is for you, then."

"Until some considerate discreet courier can deliver it to me, yes." Tessa, finished with her food, flipped off the light again, swung her chair around the table and rested her head on his shoulder. "No hurry in that, obviously. I… I can wait, preferably until another night. … … … You're not going out tonight, are you?"

"Hmm? Oh, well, I'm going to have to leave eventually. It would seem… suspicious, to say the least, if I were to be here already in the morning when the rest show up, and in the same clothes to boot."

"What about your emergency suit?"

 "You remember I have that. Of course. I'd need to iron it, for court tomorrow--"

"We have a steamer. Jess uses it to unseal envelopes without ripping them so she can reseal them later… Huh, I probably shouldn't tell people that."

Matt gave a chuckle. "That'll work, but what about Jessica?"

" _If_ she comes back. And that's a big 'if.' You can, uh, you can go sleep on the couch when you hear her coming back up. I mean…" She stood up and craned her neck to see out the window, finding exactly what she expected: hordes of media personnel camped out on her sidewalk. "There. There's still reason for you to be holed up here. You could have been working, waiting until they left, but got too tired and stayed on the couch. Perfectly reasonable."

"And if I don't hear Jessica coming back?" His fingers were running gently over the inside of her nearest wrist.

"Then… then I just tell Jess. I tell her you stayed to keep me company. I am so lonely lately. It's… it's not something that would be… unbelievable, what with my… history. She would understand."

"She would be discreet."

"Exactly. Jessica's professional life is based on discretion."

"And she might not even notice." Considering Matt's tone, the permanent uptick to his lips, he didn't need any further convincing. Now it was just for fun.

"True. She does come back pretty destroyed most nights."

"So… you have a bed again now, right?"

 

With life the way that it had been of late, neither of them were the least bit surprised when their intimate foray was abruptly ended not two minutes in. They got so far as successfully removing Matt's shirt before Tessa cracked her head hard enough against the wall that she felt her inhibitor band sizzle. As Matt inspected it, Tessa had a moment to really look him over with clear eyes. And then, the direction of their night changed drastically.

"You weren't kidding," she muttered, tracing a fresh, pink scar, giving up on escaping that stupid skirt. How long it had been since they'd caught up, really taken stock of their lives with one another. She pushed that thought away immediately. "It is much worse out there. Has to be, if you're taking this much punishment."

"They look worse than they are. You've cracked it. I can hear the circuit board shorting." He sat away, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah, whatever, back on topic. I don't think a gunshot can look any worse than it is, Matt. Someone shot you, through your armored suit. They were fast enough, or you were distracted enough for this to happen. That's gotta mean something bad was happening. You're not careless. Unless… unless you have been careless. Please tell me you haven't gotten careless."

He sighed, settling into Tessa's mountain of pillows and pulling her with him. "Stark's new task force is… not my biggest fan. And is blinder than me about some things. I was _helping_ them, by collaring those gun trafficking idiots." He paused when Tessa sighed loudly. "Seriously though, I'm being careful. I'm just not… always operating at full capacity these days. I've--"

"Got a lot on your plate. And you don't sleep enough," Tessa scoffed. She'd laid down on his chest at his insistence, but she was still staring at the bullet's scar. "You're… you're going to go out tonight, aren't you? Once I fall asleep…"

"I… that was the plan, yes. Unless I pass out first." At least he had the good sense to look guilty about that stupid ass decision.

Tessa groaned and slipped off of him. "I don't endorse that plan. But I've already said my piece about you needing sleep." She exchanged her ridiculous trial outfit for a huge, horribly tattered t-shirt and then climbed back into bed.

"I'll be fine."

"You're exhausted."

"An hour and a half here, with you, and I'll be fine."

"For the record, I think that is ridiculous, reckless, and ill-judged."

"Noted," he sighed, curling around her, already drifting to sleep. "But someone's got to pick up that package for you."

"Doesn't have to be you, Matt. You don't have to do… everything…" Tessa rolled her eyes. He was already asleep. It seemed Tessa was about to have to constantly lie to one less person about one less thing. As she too was swallowed by the blessed oblivion of sleep, Tessa did actually feel like she'd travelled back in time. And it was the best she'd had slept in months.


	10. Special Deliveries

It was a good thing Jess wasn't planning on going to court again that day. She did _not_ make responsible choices the night before. Her head was pounding when the knocking started. The world was a little like someone had spun her fifty-four times on a merry-go-round at top speed and then shaken her, so she wasn't exactly on the top of her game when she came stumbling out into the living room. That said, the lawyer on his way to answering _her_ door would have been hard for her to explain even if she wasn't in the throes of a debilitating hangover.

"Murdock," she croaked, choking back a bit of vomit. "What the hell?"

"Stayed on the couch." Why was he screaming? Usually, he was too soft-spoken for her to even hear properly. "You didn't see me when you… came in this morning?"

Jess snorted. "I didn't see much of anything when I… _came in_ this morning." Came stumbling in loud enough to wake the dead. No, she didn't notice him at the time. "You would'a had'a been wearing a neon sign for me to notice you, man. Or'a been dressed as a bottle of Wild Turkey."

He cleared his throat and then finally opened the door. It was the other one. Damned lawyers always in her house. "I hope you don't mind, I made coffee."

"Mind? I'm glad." No, he could stay. He was useful. Jess trudged past the two of them and poured a cup and then took the carafe. "I'll be mainlining this in my room if anyone needs me."

"She's just… a _vision_ in the morning."

Matt had almost forgotten he'd let Foggy inside. "I'm surprised she's even conscious, to be completely honest. Or that she made it back in one piece this morning, state she was in."

"I can't imagine what her liver looks like. Anyway, speaking of 'this morning,' what in the world are you doing here, _Matt_?" There was a tone to his enunciation of Matt's name, it just dripped with suspicion. Thank God Matt wouldn't actually have to lie to him that morning. At least not about the subject Foggy was uncannily capable of sniffing out: sexual intrigue.

"Media camped overnight. Never gave me a chance to slip out un-harassed. And I just didn't feel like _making_ them leave me alone. Tired."

"Mm-hmm." All the same, it wasn't Matt's most well-crafted half-truth. He was not surprised that Foggy sounded unconvinced. "And how's Tessa?"

"Been holed up in her room. She was up late last night. I _heard_ her up and about, probably fretting," Matt added, possibly too quickly. "I didn't want to bother her, sleep being something precious during stressful times like this. Imagine, though, it's time to knock."

"Mm-hmm." Yeah, there was no way Foggy believed that. "I think I'd like to have a little chit-chat with you, Matt, possibly out in the hall, possibly asap."

With a sigh Matt paused by Tessa's door. "Tessa?" He knocked quietly. "We'll give you a few more minutes, but the car will be here shortly."

"'Kay…" She'd still been asleep, her voice sluggish.

"She sounds exhausted," Foggy muttered as they stepped out into the hall. "What were you thinking?" He snapped in his best approximation of a whisper. It was still audible to all the neighbors most likely.

"I was thinking about expediency."

Foggy's face bloomed hot, his blood pressure steadily building with Matt's sustained lie. "Expediency? You did _not_ stay here out of _expediency_." He caught himself and lowered his voice again. "Unless the expediency you're referring to is that of satisfying your _out of control_ libido! Draw a line, Matt!"

"I'm not _that_ rash, Fog. Have some faith in my self-control." Finally, not a lie.

"I do! In all aspects of your life but this. There are some talents nobody can resist employing… But you don't dip your pen in the client's inkwell."

"I think you're mis-remembering that idiom…"

"And _I_ think you're deflecting."

Matt shifted his weight. "Or I'm not even giving your accusation a modicum of regard because it's ridiculous." Foggy wasn't buying it still. Matt waited eight seconds and then sighed. "Look, it wasn't just because of the media blitz--"

" _I knew it_."

"--outside. It was also because Tessa was in a state of near panic and Jessica wasn't home. I couldn't leave her alone like that. I was worried she'd do something… ill-advised. So, I stayed and talked with her until she settled down, then I slept on the couch and listened… just in case."

Foggy's heart slowed steadily. He was beginning to believe it. The truth could work magic like that.

"Not to say… my _baser_ nature didn't consider it… but she's on trial for her life, Foggy, distraught, panicked. I'm not _that_ depraved, to take advantage of that."

"I never said you were _depraved_ ," he grumbled, clapping Matt on the shoulder. "Sorry, bud. I just know your game's so strong, sometimes I just expect you to be hitting them out of the park, even when the stadium's empty. You do look too well rested, I guess, maybe you should keep an ear out for Bisho more often, get some sleep for once during the night."

"I _did_ sleep unusually well, actually…" Because he had been holding her again-- "What?"

Foggy had just stopped short. "'Morning, Dr. B…"

Tessa was in the kitchen, smelling more like polyester and less like her normal cotton clothing, but otherwise normal. Matt didn't understand the tight sound of Foggy's voice.

"'Morning. What happened to the coffee pot?"

"In Jessica's room."

She scoffed. "Figures… Jess! You can't just take the whole carafe!"

As Tessa stormed to the back, Foggy grabbed Matt by the elbow and tugged him aside. "Oh, god, Matt. I can't do it. It's too brutal."

"What? What is going on, Foggy?"

"Tess. She… she dressed herself this morning."

"If she hadn't, I think there'd be cause for concern."

"No, Matt, I mean… she chose her own outfit _… not_ one Karen had put together."

"Oh… Is… is it _that_ bad?"

"Well… no offense, Matt, but it'll look to the jury like you chose it."

Matt snorted as Tessa came stomping out of Jessica's room. "Do I really look like 'Lady Urkel'?"

They stood frozen for a moment, Matt finally turning to Foggy. "That's your department, Foggy… How's she look?"

"I could kill you, Matt," he muttered under his breath. "I mean… if you were wearing suspenders--"

"Uh! I hate this media friendly corporate business attire bullshit! I can't _breathe_!" Tessa shouted to the ether, storming back into her room.

"She…" Foggy was dumbfounded by the outburst. "That was… loud."

"I'll talk to her," Matt sighed, and slipped into her room before she could slam the door.

Tessa was sitting on the bed, face warm, tears running warmer rivers down her cheeks. "I can't _breathe_ , Matt… It's like I'm slowly being strangled, this pretending. Jess didn't notice anything off about you being here this morning. I can't tell her now that Foggy's here. He can't know because of ethics… I have to censor my every word, my every move, I have this _thing_ censoring my brain, and now I can't even wear _my_ _own_ damn clothes. I can't be myself! Twice now, Matt, this world has taken that from me. Twice. I'm tired of being shaped into who _they_ find me convenient to be. Sick of it."

As upset as she was, Matt was comforted by her indignation. Tessa's fire was still in there. They hadn't taken that from her.

Foggy was pacing around the couch when Matt stepped back out. "Is she… okay?"

"Tessa? She's fine. And she's wearing her own clothing. There was no getting around that."

"You were in there for under a minute."

"And in that time she convinced me that this was the only solution."

"What'd she do?"

"Oh, she ripped the suit pieces… into pieces."

"Jesus. We rented those."

"Not getting that deposit back, I'm afraid, unless you can suddenly sew _incredibly_ well."

Foggy groaned, hands compulsively running through his hair. "What has gotten into her?"

"I'd say she's finally snapped out of the shock and depression from what's _happening_ to her." Matt had said too much. He could feel Foggy's narrowed eyes on him. "I know I would be going through the same stages if I were in her situation."

"Mm-hmm."

Thankfully, Tessa's door flying open distracted him. "Okay, boys, I'm ready."

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus. She's professor Trelawney again…"

 

Tessa found it was much easier to endure the indignity of being stared at like some diseased vermin when she was in her own clothing. The people in the courtroom may have hated and feared her, but now they hated and feared her in her natural state. Well, minus the inhibitor band. And the handcuffs. And the lack of her second skin. And basically everything but her own clothing, but one win in the face of many losses was still a win. And she was planning on living it up. Thing was, maybe she was living it up a little too much, because she was feeling a little… what was the word? Distracted.

Not 'distracted' like her sartorial liberation had removed her sense of self-preservation and she wasn't controlling herself around Matt. More 'distracted' as in the lack of complete concentration that might come, say, from her inhibitor malfunctioning. Actually, that was exactly what it was. That _slight_ bump against the headboard _may_ have cracked it just a little bit. Or, a lot. She sure was having a hard time preventing other people's memories from bleeding into her consciousness that morning.

It didn't help that the People's bench had carted in, by the busload, witnesses who were undiscerningly disgruntled with super humans and, as such, who were happy enough to assume their problems were Mnemosyne's fault. It made for a litany of 'objection, your honor!' and gentle directions from Kendrick to steer the witnesses back on track. It was prejudice given a soapbox and Tessa wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"…'er in that purple 'n white body suit of 'ers and I could just _feel_ my mind going hazy--"

"Objection, your honor…" Foggy's objections were officially exasperated at this point. He didn't even stand this time. "Narrative and non-responsive."

"Mrs. Suthers, counsel asked you why you were in the hospital that evening… Answer the questions asked and only the questions asked."

Every fiber of Tessa's being wanted to phase right out of that place. Or, drop her head onto the table and go to sleep as an alternative. Or, go have her teeth drilled. Anything but this. But she was going to be a good little defendant and sit right there and look as innocent, non-combative, and contrite as possible. That didn't mean she had to listen. She just needed to _seem_ like she was all of those things. Time to zone out.

The plan was just to retreat into the back corners of her own mind, find a snug little hole, and drop into its comfy memory. But this one external memory that had been tickling her was just so persistent, and involved her. Curiosity, man. So, Tessa _accidentally_ leaned into it instead.

Someone else on the line now. Cambridge area code, grant committee no doubt. This quarter's check will clear, relax. Pepper would have-- no. Ross's people first. Headache again. Damn. Then, the Foundation. Need to check that feedback relay. And this generator-- and, "where is Bruce?!"

"You two fighting again?"

"Natasha. You bypassed FRIDAY's clearance restrictions. Again. Surprise, surprise." Added one more thing to the list.

"At this point, it's like a game for me. Heard you had news, came in to hear it. Hopefully, it's good after the last 8 hours were so spectacularly abysmal."

"Well, it's not really news. It's an idea I wanted to bounce off someone, and, hey, you're someone." Where were those notes? The processor was acting sluggish. One more thing. Natasha wasn't sitting, hands on her hips. Impatient, probably would be hostile to the idea, too. "So, we're encountering some… turbulence, press-wise, not to mention the pressure from the UN… and Ross."

"I'm aware, Tony. No need to preface." She looked off. Something wrong with her expression. Fuck, where the hell did FIRDAY file those documents?

There. Finally. "Okay. So, it's time to go all in. Make good on our promise to take responsibility, and maybe gain some trust back in the process. We do it by showing who we are, what we do. We can help put the fires out in Vienna. We have the instant extinguisher just tossed aside in the storage closet here."

"What are you talking about really, Tony?"

"We protect people and now we hold ourselves accountable. What's the number one example of us protecting everyone that we've left running, unnoticed and unaccounted for, in the background?"

Natasha turned on the spot, heading for the door. "No."

"What? You haven't even heard it!"

"I don't need to. I know where you're coming from, what impact you want this to have and with whom, but you're not seeing the other side of it. It'll be a disaster on both fronts."

"Are you kidding? She's our headliner. This'll be like if they released a new iPhone that ended global hostilities! She's world peace with a twinkly costume. If I were holding an Expo this year, she'd be on stage with me on Saturday, front and center, at 6 pm sharp! And I'd actually be on time."

Tasha's eyes flashed as she turned back around. Danger. "Tessa is not an invention of yours. You're not just unveiling her after successful beta testing. She will not be hailed as the hippest new tech advancement. By exposing her in the midst of this _tragedy_ centering on _super-terrorism_ , you will not magically end the crisis and secure the future. This is a mistake, Tony. Do not out her to the public right now. The mood is simply not right for it, and it's not ethical. She's a person, remember?"

"I'm not going to _out_ her. I'll just be going public with our work. This is part of what the Accords is meant to be. We're compliant. What we do the people deserve to know. That's what it _means_ to be accountable, about everything. Even the less comfortable stuff. Besides, she can _solve_ the bombing crisis. The investigation, the search, the panic.  All of it in under five minutes. This is the right call."

"There will be consequences."

"Then, we'll face them. _I'll_ take care of them."

"I hope you know what that means, Tony. Because, I'll hold you to--"

"…for the court the bodysuit you described my client as wearing, please?" Matt's voice had drawn Tessa out. He was standing a few feet in front of the witness stand, the vitreous Mrs. Suthers still testifying.

"Sure. It was purple and white, like I said before. Covered all of her, you know… 'cept her face. Yeah, I could see _her_ face," she pointed at Tessa, hate in her snarl. "With her freaky purple eyes and everything."

At the People's bench, Kendrick whispered something to one of her associates. Matt had turned his head, listening. He walked towards the jury stands, a smile fighting its way onto his face.

"And when exactly did you say you saw Mnemosyne?"

"Sometime after 10:30, like I said. Was going to get my mom some water."

"Mm. And you do realize that if you lie on the stand you perjure yourself? Bailiff, is lot 48F still available?"

"It is."

"Your honor, permission to replay lot 48F, after 10:30."

"Granted."

Behind Matt, Mrs. Suthers face dropped. "Uh… Well, I could be a little off with the time."

"We'll account for that. Now, you were in the North Wing, what floor?"

"Fourth…"

"Mmm. That's…" Matt stepped back to the bench and ran his hands over his evidence index. "File 9, Mr. Pena."

On the courtroom's large monitor the security footage appeared, time stamp reading 10:30. "It's on screen, Mr. Murdock."

"Thank you, if we could run from a few minutes before to a few after on double speed?"

The footage jumped and then played on fast forward. Silence filled the room. Sure enough, there appeared Mrs. Suthers. She wasn't lying about that. However, the camera merely recorded her slow progression down the hall, eyes on her phone. There was no pause, no momentary confusion, no glance out the window. In fact, out the window remained a constant still shot of the adjacent building's windows. Matt waited patiently, hands resting on top his cane. When the quiet mutters started, he turned back to Mrs. Suthers.

"Now, can you describe to me just when, in that span of time just shown, you felt "your mind was violated," please?"

Walters stood suddenly. "Your honor, the state would like to recant this witness. Counsel was not aware the witness had willful intent to lie under oath."

"Noted. Bailiff, will you please escort Mrs. Suthers from the court. I expect you'll be hearing from counsel again, to face charges yourself. Next witness, Kendrick."

Tessa was floored that Matt managed to keep his face utterly blank as he tapped back to her. She was having to hide her smile behind her hand. Proof, _real_ proof of Tessa's criminal violations was turning out to be difficult to pin down when it mattered. Tessa was millimeters from happily squeezing Matt's hand under the table. Never reached him, though.

"… I think she needs to be monitored and administered, of course, I do, but I think our case against her is flimsy, ma'am."

"Just build one from what we have, Walters."

_Cripes, Jen. You're a hypocrite now, aren't you? Couldn't go into divorce law, could you? Had to go criminal. Working for the DoJ on superhuman liabilities of all things. What were you thinking?! I could kill Bruce. Why didn't he warn me?_

There was the rushing in her ears. She had to stop. _That_ certainly wasn't going to do anything to improve the situation.

 _I can see the headlines now: DoJ assistant transforms into superhuman monster, wrecks office while preparing case against fellow superhuman._ Cold water helped. _Don't look in the mirror._ That taste of bitters and heat faded, the little bit of excitement she never admitted to enjoying also abated.

 _The Accords are right. There need to be checks and balances, someone for them--_ us _to answer to, but… prosecuting this woman for being superhuman? Does that fall under this new jurisdiction? Is it even constitutional?_

Another empty witness statement. Case like Swiss cheese. What was Kendrick thinking? _That this case can't be ignored. Too bad it's a gigantic black hole, growing to swallow us all. Where do we draw the line if we convict this one for just possibly using her powers? There's no substantial proof here, but we could still win because the people are scared._ There's no proof here… And what the hell are _you_ doing here, Jen?

Even once she was looking out onto the courtroom again through her own eyes, Tessa couldn't push the image of Walters' hands from her mind. It replayed over and over, the green blooming across her fingers.

 

"Tess. Hey? You okay?" Foggy's eyes were all crumpled. He was worried. "You've been a little… out of it for the past few hours."

Tessa glanced around. She hadn't noticed that they'd gone to recess. There was a largely untouched sandwich in her hands. Yeah, out of it pretty much described her. Out of it and in other people's memories. She'd picked up so much that day, it was a little scary. She was a little scary, needed to focus, not disappear in them like in the beginning.

"Sorry. Just… not feeling so great today. Anxiety's got me all… fuzzy." Anxiety and shit like Gerry-in-the-back's weird scar fetish. Now Tessa knew people could see her incision, just a sliver, below her inhibitor band. "I miss anything important?"

"Besides me and Matt being rock stars and kicking ass? Nah. Nothing _important_. Nothing you didn't already know about. Today's going well, it's a good day."

"You also missed Walters excusing herself from the courtroom," Matt said quietly, sitting down beside her. "She seemed… upset."

"If 'upset' is sweating, wild-eyed, and panting, yeah. I'm pretty sure she just had food poisoning, Matt. And I can't-- hey! No cameras in here! Bailiff!" Foggy darted off towards the chump with the cell phone now hauling ass down the promenade.

As he did, Tessa scanned the room quickly and then leaned into Matt. "It's sure as hell not food poisoning."

"I know."

"I know you know. I'm trying to tell you something you don't, that Walters is… like me--well… like Dr. Banner…" She let a beat of silence pass and Matt quirked his head. "Think… green."

"That… would explain everything I… noticed. You, uh… just pick that up?"

"More like got broadsided with it. Inhibitor's acting a little… wonky. After…"

He grimaced. "Who buys a metal headboard? But… that was… ill-advised. All of it."

"Certainly didn't end up the way I expected. I think…" Tessa trailed off when Matt's jaw clenched. "What?"

"We're about to have an unwanted guest…" He stood suddenly and, gripping his cane, turned to block Tessa from whomever was approaching.

"Ah! Mr. Murdock! Fine job you're doing with our girl, Tessa. Glad to see that money's not gone a bit to waste. Actually, after watching you and Nelson in action, I think I'm _under_ paying you." Stark. And he had the unctuously congenial persona on. Lovely.

"Mr. Stark." Matt, on the other hand, had no persona on. He was just barely cordial in his address. Tessa could hear the Murdock smile had made an appearance. This one would be the warning grin, the one that was just as threatening as his scowl. "How may I help you?"

"Help me? Pah. You're already helping me, that's what the compliment before was about. I'm not just blowing smoke up your ass 'cause I want something. I'm here to have a little chat with your client." He took a step forward, but Matt didn't budge. "Uh… that was me indicating that I would like to step past you and get to Tessa."

"I'm aware, Mr. Stark. I didn't step aside because it is not advisable for my client to be speaking with anyone outside of her counsel. Especially not inside the courthouse."

"Not even the guy _paying_ for her counsel?"

"Especially not the person paying for her counsel. Considering the circumstances of that financial… _support_."

Stark shifted his weight to his other foot. Tessa could imagine the impatience on his face at that moment, hand on his hip. "I just… Listen, Murdock, I'm not going stand here and mince words. I'd like to speak with Tessa. I'm going to speak with Tessa, whether you advise it or not. Let's not make this into a scene."

"Yes, let's _not_."

Even Stark paused at the tone in Matt's voice. After a moment he stepped back. "Love the shades. What was it? Birth defect? Cancer? Degenerative disease?"

"Car accident."

"Bad odds. I can help you with that. I know a guy. Consider it a bonus, for excellent representation of my ward."

"Mr. Stark," Matt said, low and quiet, as he took a step towards him. "The answer is 'no.'"

"Just… seriously, Columbia, I'm not going to jeopardize something I'm _invested_ in. I'm a business man." It was still quippy, but Tessa could hear the sincerity in Tony's voice.

"I'm okay with it, Mr. Murdock… I'm okay speaking with Stark."

Matt's shoulders relaxed some. "Very well. I still don't advise it," he mumbled and headed to the next bench down the hall.

Stark, finally in full view, watched him go with a frown. "Stubborn and dedicated. Good combo for you in a lawyer, I guess, Bisho." He sauntered over and sat beside her. "And otherwise. Do I detect a hint of non-professional protectiveness?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Stark."

"Yeah, okay… cutting the shit." He deflated some, the shtick fading completely. Up close, without his trademark, million dollar glasses and matching smirk, Tony Stark looked his age, plus some. Weirder still, he looked sad. "I know I've got a limited clock with you, Tessa, so I'll cut right to the chase. I, uh… I have my faults-- countless faults, actually, and unfortunately far-reaching influence for… uh, for spreading the effects of those faults. I--"

Tessa scoffed, interjecting. "Jesus, Stark. What is the actual point of this spiel? I wasn't born yesterday. I know you're flawed-- hell, even if I'd been born yesterday and living under a rock since then, and all the other metaphors, I'd still know you're hugely, monolithically flawed. Get to it."

"Right. Not about me. Okay. I--ha. I know you think I've treated you like a mad scientist's passion project, and not like a human being--"

" _Think_?"

"Okay. I've done that. I've been, as Strange would put it--probably has put it--myopic as concerns you and your welfare… and this is me apologizing and admitting that I've been wrong. I'm sorry that I was, according to your charming friend, Jessica Jones, a bag of dicks, and that I selfishly exploited you on at least three different occasions without your knowledge or consent, and… to your detriment. It… was not my intention. I was too caught up in my own… shit… to see… the… the bigger picture."

He sighed and reached into his suit jacket, emerging with a packet of kale chips. He offered her one and then continued when Tessa only stared back.

"I told you before, Beesh, I'm always in beta. I'm trying to do the right thing, I'm trying to protect everyone as effectively and efficiently as I can, but I haven't gotten all the bugs worked out yet… you know? Ultron was for a good reason. Blew up in my face-- but I had everyone's best interests in mind… and I got better at it. I mean, Vision turned out alright and I thought I was back on track with you, that I was saving you and the world at once. I thought they'd be grateful for you, but… but… I'm a mechanic, Tess, not a shrink, you know? Good with machines, not always so much with people… there's, uh, no formula, no algorithm for predicting their behavior-- no _working_ one, at least… They're less… predictable…"

He'd been staring at the kale chip perched between his fingertips for some time now. It fell sadly back into its bag, which Stark then crumpled up and set aside.

"Look, Tess, I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of this, get you settled under the Accords and whatever the hell Ross's committee cooks up for its branch stateside. I'm going to get you back to… to being yourself, being helpful, okay? I promise… but… but you're part of a bigger world now--admittedly, because of me--but that bigger world has bigger things going on and sometimes you gotta deal with them. Can't always hide… or… or cut the wire--y--you can't always get around facing them."

With a sigh of exasperation, Tony dragged his hand down his face. "You… gotta face them head on and there's a lot of responsibility floating around out there and we-- as movers and shakers in that bigger world-- we gotta be the ones to shoulder that… and that's what I was doing announcing your existence. I was being accountable. I was being responsible. And… I thought I was providing the people with a service they'd be able--and excited-- to utilize for their security. To _fix_ the damned shit show in Vienna without-- Honest to god, I didn't think you'd become collateral damage.

"I thought you'd become the next golden child, the next rock star, the next me. _I_ thought that they'd be fighting over employing you in an advisory capacity. I thought I was enabling you to effect the change on the ground you wanted, you know? You should've been a consultant by now. A highly demanded one, deciding who you'd provide your services to, like I did… Even under the Accords, I did _not_ expect they'd witch hunt you. So… I'm, uh, I'm thinking, you know, this doesn't pan out? We, uh, we give them a real witch to consider, just to, you know, give them some perspective…"

Tessa leaned back a little as Stark finally looked her in the eye. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what gave weight to that glance.

"But, there it is. I'm sorry, Bisho… Your lawyers're giving me the joint stink eye, so I'm gonna make myself scarce. Let me know if you need any money, or toys. You know how to reach me."

"It wasn't Barnes, you know."

He hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Can you be sure of that?"

"Now? With this?" She ran a finger over the scar and then flicked her inhibitor. "Not perfectly, but I was sure then… I think. Why didn't you just ask me, Stark?"

"Tried. Tried making you the Avengers rep in the investigation. Backfired. But besides… with Barnes, it's tricky. His memory is scrambled, trash. Cap was certain of that. You couldn't have known for sure, could you?"

"… Not without closer proximity and time… no."

He sucked on his teeth, hundred mile stare directed down the hall. "Well… it's all just conjecture now, isn't it? Moot point. At least you didn't run… at least I can keep you safe. Back to that, Tess…" He snapped his fingers with a nod and then stood. "I'll fix this. Promise."

Tessa hated herself for it, but she watched him walk away.

"Quite a speech." Matt was beside her again. "Sounded pretty damned sincere."

"I'm, uh, I'm having a hard time with that last part. I can't tell if I believe him, or I just _want_ to believe him."

"I believe him," Matt nearly hissed, as disgusted as Tessa was skeptical. "Though, I'd love to know what prompted it."

"Some ghosts… caught a front row seat to their haunting during the trial."

Matt sighed deeply. "We… may need to get someone over here to look at your device. It would be careless to let you continue on in there with it malfunctioning. Just in case…"

After pausing, chin tucked, he stood and tapped towards where Foggy was huddled with some security personnel. A whisper and a nod later, Foggy was scampering towards the other end of the courthouse and Matt was weaving back to Tessa. In a matter of minutes, Foggy reappeared, a wary Banner in his tow.

"I'll be over there if you need me," Matt said quietly and then headed for the nearby bench where he'd listen to Stark confession.

"I was just considering paying you a visit, doctor." Banner sat on the far edge of Tessa's bench, turning over Stark's snack bag as he did so. He chuckled, "seems I was not alone."

"Guilty conscience is different from concern, Dr. Banner," Tessa replied with a smile. "I'm glad Mr. Nelson could grab you. I think my… futuristic headband is acting up."

Banner pulled his glasses from his jacket pocket, slipping them on as he slid over to inspect the inhibitor. "Can you describe what is leading you to believe it is 'acting up,' please?"

"Uh… I'm… finding myself… experiencing other people's pasts?"

"Oh." Banner leaned away, looking over his glasses at her. "Well, yes, I'd say that constitutes 'acting up.' Huh. Did… anything occur to cause this malfunction?"

"You mean like smacking it on something?"

A little grin pulled at his mouth as he put away his glasses again. "Yes, smacking it on something would do that. You managed to crack the casing. Quite the blow this would have needed to crack…"

"I'm a clutz and Jess decorates with industrial grade metal."

"Yes, that would do it. We didn't engineer it with impact durability in mind. Should I… _worry_ about how this happened?"

Tessa shrugged. "I mean, I can't hurt myself, if that's what you mean. I just came down harder on it than I was expecting." It wasn't untrue.

Banner seemed to be weighing her response for a moment. Then, he dropped his eyes again. "I can visit this evening with some gear for running diagnostics. We'll have you fixed up for tomorrow morning. But, uh… Try not to damage it again, Dr. Bisho…"

At the tone of his voice, Tessa snapped her head up to look him over.

"Who knows when you'll be able to get repairs done."

She stared at him, quirking her head to the side, searching for an explanation for that cryptically foreboding statement, but received none. All she was getting from Banner was retired acceptance and, like Stark, sadness. A nudge into his surface memories gave her only flashes of labs and screen readouts, some gps data. Until she hit the jackpot.

"You… you… you can't, Dr. Banner," Tessa mumbled, clawing her way out of the muddle of grief and flight plans she'd fallen into. But he was already gone. And now she didn't know when she'd see him next, if ever.

"He can't what?" Foggy asked, collecting her sandwich, still untouched, from the ground.

"Nothing. I zoned out again."

"Zoned out? I think you were actively sleeping, Doc, but whatever you say. You want me to grab you something else to eat?"

"Oh, no thank you. Not much of an appetite right now." After Stark's big, gut-spilling apology and Banner's 'I'm getting the fuck outta dodge' bombshell Tessa was having a hard time digesting reality, much less crappy food court fare.

 

One witness into the reconvened court and Tessa was wishing, one, that she had grabbed some food, and two, that Dr. Banner had had an on-the-spot fix for her inhibitor. But, the Honorable Judge Hayford did not allow food in his courtroom and Dr. Banner was no longer in his seat beside Stark. Tessa was stuck.

Side-stepping what Tessa could only have described as a stomach-curdling memory of Luke's about his probation officer, something referred to-- in a glaring abuse of language-- as 'discretionary oversight,' and the taste of bile, she was trying desperately to stay tuned into the Fed on the stand as she recounted her accumulated evidence on Tessa's whereabouts and activities over the past year and a half.

Tessa was not succeeding.

Someone in that courtroom was remembering something very loudly, something that immediately caught Tessa's attention. It was like she was being baited by it. Tessa managed to keep her eyes and focus trained on the Fed and her monotone narration of some hospital's security footage for approximately seven minutes. She immediately lost track of the here and now, however, when she heard a vaguely familiar voice bark "Clint!".

In a blink, Tessa was perched above the city, wind whistling in her ear, sun on her back and down her legs. Whoever she was remembering through had been there for a while. The gravel of the roof was biting into their hips and knees and elbows. If it had been bothering them, though, they didn't think about it. Instead, they simply gazed through the scope of the rifle wedged into their shoulder and waited. The object of their sights was an adjacent roof, only slightly lower than theirs. Tessa found herself wondering why she didn't recognize either building. A quick scan of surface memories found her answer, a sign for _Newark_ Penn Station. They were in New Jersey.

The people she found on the opposite roof didn't help to explain the interstate travel. Even from this distance, the long-range microphone feed in their ear would have been unnecessary to hear Kate Bishop's full-voice bitching.

"--a stupid ass idiot and I can't do a damned thing to stop that from being the case, so get off my ass, Jessica."

Jessica. Drew. That explained the cascade of impeccably waved, shining, black hair. What in the world was she doing out here?

"At least talk to him. I know you can find him. You have his dog."

"I don't know what you're talking about. He's my dog."

"Kate. Come on. This is serious and you know I'm not the enemy. I'm just trying to warn him against--"

"Something he'll inevitably do anyway. We'd both be wasting our time." Kate's voice softened, an edge to her tone. She crossed her arms, and began chewing her lip.

"Oh. OH. You _really don't_ know where Clint is."

"I didn't say that."

"Don't be a child. That's fine. I'll find him myself. If you do happen to see him, tell him not to go to that courthouse. No matter what--hey now." As she turned away, towards to the rooftop door, Kate caught her arm.

"Oh, no you don't. You still live in that tower. You stay away from him." When Drew slipped her arm out and turned back, Kate aimed an arrow dead between her eyes. "I mean it."

"Seriously? I'm trying to _save_ him, you little idiot. Why the fuck else would I come all the way out here?"

"Uh… to kill him?"

"Jesus. You're impossible. Forget it." In a flash, Drew was a good thirty feet back from Kate, who was still skidding across the roof on her ass. That was new. Guess Drew finally got her chemical control down.

"You BITCH!" Kate snapped, on her feet immediately, but too late. Drew was already through the door. "That… really stung. … What a _bitch_."

There was a chuckle, a very familiar scoff, as the earpiece was removed and Natasha's hands began breaking down the microphone. After a moment, they paused and the plastic was lifted close, then fogged up. Tessa watched in confusion as a message was scrawled in the condensation: CLINT NOT ONLY SURPRISE. WATCH FOR WITCH.

The courtroom was tense as Tessa came blinking out of that memory. She was disoriented for a few moments, searching for its source, and came up empty. If Natasha had been in the audience at any point that day, she wasn't any longer. Maybe she never had been, not inside at least. Tessa turned her gaze out the windows. Perhaps Natasha was in one of the adjacent buildings, focused on that memory. That wouldn't have surprised Tessa.

She needed only to concentrate to find her. Just had to tune out Agent Tarth again, at this point being cross-examined by Matt. Tessa cringed as she realized they were discussing the bodega incident. Not her finest evening. That complication didn't make her concentrating any easier. At least the evidence was largely in her favor. Tarth had just admitted that the video evidence held no indication of any illegal activity perpetrated by Mnemosyne when Tessa caught something, not a memory blip, but a flash of light. She recognized that particular kind of flash. It was sunlight catching on the glass of a scope. When her eyes finally focused past the blinding glare, she almost rolled them. That damned idiot, with the purple arrow on his chest and everything.

There Clint sat on an impossible perch, bow drawn and trained on… Tessa? It seemed like she was looking dead up the shaft of the arrow, but then it occurred to her who was seated directly behind her today. Damned idiot, indeed. This was _not_ the venue for that particular vendetta. No Stark assassination today, she thought and slowly shook her head twice, eyes locked on him. There passed a beat before the arrow dropped and the bow relaxed. Clint sat back, shoulders slumped. She couldn't tell at this distance or from behind his tactical glasses, but she recognized the frown that would have accompanied an eye roll. Gear broke down in a matter of seconds and, with a hilarious little wave, Clint darted from view.

Tessa didn't have to ponder too long what was going through his mind when he formed that particular plan. Clint was waiting for her when she got home that evening.

"Special delivery for Tess Bisho," he announced the second she stepped through her bedroom door. But, unless Clint himself was the special delivery, he had nothing for her. Instead, he'd apparently helped himself to the leftover risotto.

Tessa slammed closed the door and stalked over to him. "What were you thinking earlier? You could have made everything ten times worse!" She hissed and shoved his feet off of her bed. A more thorough glance also turned up no 'delivery.' "And what in the hell are you even _doing_ here? This is a stupid risk."

"Hey, I _was invited_. Burner pinging this location last texted me some coordinates. Found a package there addressed to you, so I brought it."

"Did you _… forget_ it?"

"Nah. Had to take special measures. They've got a tech net on your place, you know that? Can't get a cell phone inside the perimeter without them knowing it."

"So, it's invisible?"

Clint grinned. "Not quite." He pointed to the end of her bed, where a small shipping box seemed to materialize.

"That's… a fancy trick," Tessa mumbled, eyeing Clint and taking a step toward the box. "Come with any… consequences?"

"Only him." Clint nodded past Tessa's shoulder where there was now someone standing who had definitely not been there a moment ago. It took all of Tessa's control not to scream.

"It's not a bomb, by the way, I checked."

A few steps backward and Tessa realized this particular person was familiar, just not at this size. She nodded and turned back to Clint, glaring as her heart slowed. "A little warning might have been nice."

"Thought I did."

"I--I'm Scott," he said behind Tessa. Clint sighed. "Nice to officially meet you."

"Tiny waving antenna man?"

"That's me." He waved again. "Sorry to startle you. Had to be small to stow in here on you with this."

"Lang, Tess. Tess, Lang. He shrinks and stuff."

"I--It's not as lame as it sounds. There's a bunch of physics that go into it and I can--"

"Lang. There's no salvaging it. You shrink and stuff."

"And the ants."

"Yeah… don't forget the ants."

All through this, Tessa had been getting the usual dull hum of muted memories from Clint, but wasn't reading anything off of Lang. She squinted, trying a little harder to break the silence, but failed. "That helmet… must keep me from hearing you."

He turned away from Clint, his face mask unsealing and retracting. He was not what Tessa had expected, especially not with that goofy grin. "Actually, it's _ant_ erference. … 'C--Cause I'm Ant Man."

"Dude…" Clint rolled his eyes. "You're better than that. We've talked about this…"

Lang's grin fell away and he began shaking his head with Clint. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right…"

Tessa cleared her throat. It had been hot a minute or so since she'd seen a person deflate into shame. Lang glanced up with a bit of that newcomer's desperation that Tessa recognized, so she offered a sympathetic smile. "Maybe the puns are something you're just going to have to _grow_ into?"

Lang cracked into smile, chuckling weakly. "That's a good one. I'll have to keep that one on deck."

"Ah, Tess…" Clint grumbled. "Don't encourage him."

"You may not remember being new to this world, but I do, Clint. We all find our own sources of levity."

"But, puns?"

"And your humor's so much better?" Tessa asked with a scoff. "You know what spooked Dr. Banner today?"

"He finally took off, didn't he? I thought so. Stark--or Ross must finally be planning to intervene with Cap. Banner's always been a pacifist."

"Is… Are you close? To finding…"

Clint shook his head, and Tessa went back to picking at the loose tape on the package. "Like a wild goose chase."

"At least that means… everyone else--"

"Hopefully. You can't... you know, can you?" Clint waggled his fingers at her head.

"Not this far away, not with my cute headgear. Sorry."

"That's what we figured."

 "Uh… not that it matters really at this point, but you should tell Cap that I'm pretty sure Barnes didn't do it. Maybe that'll--" Tessa froze. She heard a familiar and far too loud tapping out in the hallway. A courtesy tap.

"No harm in--"

"Shh!" Tessa held up a hand and waited as Matt's footfalls became audible with the tapping. After just a second there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?"

"Tessa? When you have a moment, Foggy and I would like to review with you our expectations for tomorrow. Because the Vision is such an outstanding witness, it would be best if we prepared some contingency plans for unusual procedure."

"Of course. I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

Tessa turned back to Clint as they listened to Matt tap away. She cleared her throat again, this time nodding her head to the bathroom and its window. Clint, however, didn't budge. When Tessa sighed, Lang glanced between them and shifted towards the bathroom.

"I'll just… be in here," he whispered.

"No worries, Lang. Nothing going on."

"Seems like… something's… not my business." Getting nothing from Clint, he looked at Tessa again. She shrugged, not herself sure why Clint was still there.

"Well, as glad as I am to be caught up on what's going on behind the scenes of your faction, Clint, I have to go deal with my own personal front of this very public war on--"

"You trust him? Him and his partner?"

Tessa paused. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"I just… You know, I want to make sure you're being… that you have the best representation in this." Behind him, Lang backed up a few more steps towards the bathroom.

Realizing how this looked, Tessa rolled her eyes and took the now empty bowl of risotto from him. "They're good, Clint. I wouldn't want anyone else. Thank you for your concern."

"That's what I wanted to hear." Faster than Tessa could escape it, Clint stood and pulled her into one of his clumsy hugs. "'Cause you sure as hell don't deserve this… This is on the rest of us. … Anyway, take care of yourself, Tess, ok--"

"Yeah, I'll just give you two a minute--"

"Shaddup, Lang. She's like a sister to me."

"I hope you never have a sister, then…" Tessa muttered, face still mashed into his chest.

"And you shaddup, too. I'm trying to be serious here. We're all getting torn apart and I don't want you ripped up in the middle. Well… any more than you already have been. So, the _minute_ you get that tingle down your spine that something's not right, call my old number. Someone'll pick up for you."

"Okay…" As he finally let go of her, Tessa caught his elbow. "And Clint? Don't… don't lose yourself in this, alright?"

He cocked a half-assed grin. "I wasn't gonna kill 'em, Tess. Just… shock the hell outta him for making my best friend take the wrong side, for you, for… for a lot of stuff."

"That iffy conviction in your voice is what I'm worried about. But… I suppose you know what you're doing at least half of the time and that's not _bad_ odds. ... Be safe. I'm not out there to haul you out of the garbage anymore."

"Oh, don't act like you're surprised, Lang. We all have our shame," Clint shoved him, wide-eyed and incredulous, towards the bathroom. "I'll do my best, Tess. We both know my pride can't take thanking anyone else for that kind of favor."

"You have a sense of pride still?"

"Futzin' hell, Lang, if you're gonna be a funny guy, I'd prefer puns to smart ass, alright?"

"Point taken."

Tessa waited until they had vanished, or disappeared out of the bathroom window, before picking up the mysterious package and heading for the living room. She opened her door and walked directly into Matt.

"Everything alright?" He asked, head quirked to the side.

"Yeah… just a little… surprise." She held out the box toward him. "Apparently, it's not a bomb…"

Matt considered it for a moment. "Even so… maybe you'll want to open that _not_ in the presence of your attorneys."

"True. Very true."

"Hey?!" Jess must have just gotten home. Tessa could hear her rummaging in the fridge. "Didn't you say there was leftover risotto in here?"

"Is there not?" Tessa called back, making sure her door was tightly closed.

"No…"

"Huh, how weird… Maybe you drunk-ate it last night…"

"I didn't see it come back up--"

"Nasty, Jess!"

"Yeah, well… I'm a nasty person sometimes. I try to keep that private, but it's hard when there are lawyers in my place _all the time_."

"She means well. She's just an asshole when she's hungover," Tessa said apologetically towards Foggy and then opened a cabinet and fished out a box of stovetop macaroni.

Jess caught it and offered a smirk. "That's half true. I'm actually an asshole all the time."

"And you think I'm the only one who wears a mask… Now, what are you worried about with Vision?"

Matt opened his bag and pulled out a laptop, soon joined by Foggy at the table. "We're not so much worried as--"

"Completely clueless."

"-- _cautious._ He is unprecedented--in many ways--but as a witness, we are concerned what sort of information he will--"

Matt froze mid-sentence, his chin tucking. Tessa recognized that move, he heard something. Sure enough, within a few seconds there was a knock at the door. After a moment of sustained silence, Jess turned around from the stove to stare at them.

"Don't worry, _I'll_ get it."

Tessa was stuck, eyes locked on Matt and waiting for a reaction, but Foggy snapped out of that in time to hop up and wave Jess off. "No, no. Let me. It's probably a trial thing anyways. Paperwork… or something."

Once Jess had turned away, he shot another look Matt's way, but his face was unreadable. A bit of trepidation between his brows, Foggy practically yanked the door open. And found no one. Tessa leaned away from the table to peer around him, but still saw no source for the knock.

"Did… we just get ding-dong dashed?" Jess called over her shoulder. "Or, did you three sit there in your telepathic conversation for so long they just gave up and left."

"Uh… no, I think this was just a delivery…" Foggy turned back with a small box in his hands. "Anybody expecting something from Amazon today?"

"Amazon? No…" This time, her check yielded results; Matt was confused too.

"Well, it's for you, Tessa…" Foggy handed it to her, concern on his face. "Maybe check your account for an accidental order."

As soon as she got the box in her hands, though, Tessa relaxed. She recognized the tight, almost type-set even handwriting that had inscribed her name. Her second special delivery of the day. "Dr. Banner isn't the most social individual," she explained. "He probably had other things to attend to besides watching me unpack this inhibitor."

"I think anyone would prefer doing something other than watching you unpack yet another inhibitor, chica. What iteration are we on now? 4.2?"

"Something like that--oh…" Matt's hand found her knee beneath the table. She almost didn't notice its comfort as she reread the note that was carefully nestled inside the lid. It wasn't just instructions like she was expecting, it was confirmation of the flash she'd read off of Banner earlier and Clint's speculation.

"Something wrong?" Matt asked.

"It's… it's not good." Tessa sat back so Foggy could take the note.

"Uh… old inhibitor deactivates… fifteen seconds, blah blah, new one is impact resistant… Okay, here we go. Ahem. 'Unfortunately, this will be the last device I will be able to provide to you for the foreseeable future. I am leaving, as I believe you suspected this afternoon, before events take a confrontational turn and our peers consult me, not for my expertise, but for my alter ego. I will not be reachable by conventional means, so do avoid any more accidents. I doubt Tony's replacements will be as user friendly as mine. However, if you should find yourself in dire straits, I trust you will have the wherewithal to find me. If you do, however, choose to seek me out, make sure it is you, Dr. Bisho, who finds me. I can make no guarantees otherwise that you will not meet my other half. I wish you the best, Tessa, and most of all that you never need to seek me out. -BB' … Wow. Heavy." Foggy cleared his throat as he returned the note.

Matt took it in turn, fingers running over the ink. "I don't necessarily like what this bodes either. What could be so bad that he would risk his legal standing and your trial?"

"I can think of a few things…" Tessa grumbled, heart in her throat.

Jess stepped over just then and slammed a bottle in the middle of the table. Flecks of amber liquid left the ink to run in a few places on the note. "Best cure for bad news? To forget. Sorry, chica, but maybe the burn'll distract you…"


	11. Existential Loopholes

It was already hard enough to get a flash drive into a usb port. Trying to do it by moonlight was nearly impossible. Tessa hunched over--but only to the left, so the toilet lid wouldn't creak-- and glared at the port. She couldn't see shit.

"Why in the hell am I doing this in the bathroom?!" She hissed in exasperation.

"Only window I can access without people seeing me." That explained the even worse lighting conditions. Matt dropped silently into a crouch on the sill. "So, it was just a thumb drive…"

"I think so. Don't know yet for certain. Can't plug the damn thing in."

"Line up the--"

"I know what to do. I just can't _see_ for shit right now to line up the things…"

"What a dilemma."

"…and if I turn on the light, Jess'll know I'm up and will come back to investigate. And then, we'll have some explaining to do--there! Finally." Tessa tucked the hair out of her face and waited for her laptop to acknowledge the drive.

"What is it?"

"I don't know yet. I'm… I'm just now opening its folder--oh shit…"

The window sill creaked a little. "What? What is it? You know I can't--"

"It's evidence…" she breathed, sweat beading across her face all of a sudden. "It's evidence against me… or… it _was_ evidence against me." She had scanned the dozens upon dozens of super dense files before landing on the READ-ME. Within it was Natasha's explanation.

"Was? Does it have logs of--"

"Some. But _I_ know because Natasha left a note. Apparently, it--my suit did log my actions. There was physical evidence of the energy surge blah blah blah that happened when I deleted myself from them and the suit recorded those outputs. Besides that, though, only Clint and Natasha know--really _know_ \--that I did that because we talked about it. They told me to do it. The rest… the rest can suppose and suspect, but without these readouts from my suit, there's no data to support their suspicion. And they don't have it. She dumped even the backups here."

"Why would she do that? To make certain the others, Stark and Banner, that they really weren't perjuring themselves?"

"I guess… maybe she doesn't trust one of them? I have no clue. Why… why wouldn't she just destroy it herself?" Tessa kept reading through what seemed to be the endless list of files until she spotted one that stood out. "What in the world?"

"Something else?"

"Yeah… audio file. Your specialty." Tessa set the laptop on the sink counter and turned the volume all the way down to 1. "You ready?"

His silhouette lost its horns briefly, a nod. Tessa leaned in right next to the speakers and hit play. The quality was poor, like it had been taken by a cellphone from a distance. Even so, and even at such a low volume, it was immediately recognizable. An argument. Between Wanda and Vision.

""It is the only option that we may pursue." Wanda's voice was urgent. Tessa could hear the frown that would have been in her eyes.

"I cannot contaminate evidence. It would be wrong."

"The consequences, which will befall her should we not, are also wrong, Vision. We aren't _meant_ to remember it. This is why the virus was in your system, one that you wrote. If not for--""

Tessa leaned even closer to the computer as static broke up the conversation. Above her, Matt drew a deep breath. Tessa could feel his anxiety building, clouding his surface memories, even with her new 'inhibitor'.

""--nda, please don't."

"I'm sorry, but I must… This… this is all my fault--"" Wanda's voice had already sounded broken and tinny, even once the static resolved, but whatever she did completely fractured the audio, leaving just dense, blipping white noise.

After a moment, the program automatically shut down and a dialog box popped up, announcing that the file was corrupted. Maybe that hadn't been Wanda's doing. While Tessa was trying to relaunch the media player, the screen stuttered and then flashed out to black.

"Shit," Tessa muttered, feeling for the power button.

Matt reached for her hand. "It's still processing something. Listen."

Sure enough, there was that quiet grinding and clicking of a 'thinking' computer. Almost instantly, a cursor appeared and with it a few dozen lines of code that ran across the screen. When the desktop blinked back up again, the folder of the flash drive was open and completely empty. An inspection of its files also turned up nothing.

"Well… huh…"

"What?"

Tessa dislodged the drive and tucked it into Matt's hand. "It seems to have… self-destructed."

"Natasha, I assume."

"Oh, undoubtedly. She wanted me to know this, something about this in particular, but not anyone else."

"She covered the trail, destroying the evidence like that. It's useless, really, basically just a warning."

"Precisely. You're not picking up anything else on that drive are you?"

"Nothing. She must have sanitized it." He handed it back. "You think she knows we work together?"

Tessa turned the flash drive over in her hands. "Probably. She knows practically everything. It's a good thing she's not testifying against me because she's a veritable gold mine on--oh."

Matt managed the catch the drive before it hit the floor. "You don't think that she'll…"

"No, no… Natasha? No. It just occurred to me that even if Natasha destroyed this evidence and Wanda somehow forced Vision to wipe his accounts of it, even then there's still a possible leak."

"Wanda herself…"

 "Exactly. And… _this_ proves--proved Wanda's a loose cannon. There's no telling what she might do next. How she could affect the trial, even if well intentioned. That explains the memory drop…"

"Natasha was at the courthouse?"

"Near it. Near enough to achieve a… data transfer between us. She warned me about Clint dropping in and then to watch out for the Witch, for Wanda. She must be really concerned… but it's gotta be about her--Wanda's influence, right? She--she's not a witness, is she?"

"No one even knows to depose her much less how to find her. And I'd say her ability to alter reality is the far more threatening aspect of her existence, much more than the fact that she knows anything about your… choices, even for us. It seems unlikely that she would reveal that information if she went through so much trouble to eradicate it and, even if she did, the court and the public would go bat-shit over her powers and their invalidation of the evidence before-- ah…"

Tessa arrived at that logical connection in time with Matt. "Oh, shit. She _can't_ appear in court. No one can find out she's involved at all! They'll think we're working together--like we sort of have been! It's so easy and believable that she's been using her magic to alter reality to make me _seem_ innocent. Shit. What if she _has_ done that?"

"It doesn't matter. We have to prevent the question from even being raised. She represents a huge threat of evidence contamination--hell, she _is_ evidence contamination, and we can't afford a mistrial or for public opinion to be swayed anymore against you."

"Matt," Tessa caught him as he began to climb out the window. "This isn't a bad possibility that we might avoid if you punch enough people in the next five hours. It's an inevitability. Vision knows what Wanda is, what she's capable of, and he'll attest to that tomorrow morning. He won't hold back. We need to prepare for the fallout…"

He sunk back onto his heels with a sigh. "You're right… okay, then… This will require some theatrics…"

 

It was an unseasonably warm day. For some reason, the courthouse's maintenance staff had neglected to turn on the A/C. As the sun beat down onto the courtroom, the glass panels of the windows did nothing to screen the room from it. Instead, they were all trapped inside, baking. It was reasonable, then, that the whole room was sweating. But, this was not the usual perspiration of crowded bodies trying to keep cool. It reeked of stress and fear. Nobody, not even the prosecution, was looking forward to the testimony of the witness currently approaching the stand. Ironically, he was the only one among them not sweating.

Despite his attempt to conform to human standards, Vision unsettled the whole room. He wore normal attire, from the smell of it, brand new and clean, but that couldn't hide the fact that he wasn't human. Not by the traditional standards. Tessa had described Vision to Matt before. It was little wonder that slapping a designer suit on him didn't solve the fact that he was glaringly non-human. Red and green skin, yellow gem lodged in his forehead, propensity to hover instead of walk--as he was now doing, judging by the lack of foot falls--with all that, they might have responded better to him if he'd actually shown up in the cape.

Matters were not at all improved by the fact that his designation as a permissible witness was tenuous at best. Kendrick had to waste seventeen minutes of her time and the jury's attention in order to establish his name and classification as a living being. Seventeen minutes during which she went from stressed to anxious and at least three jurors became distractingly hungry. Matt listened carefully, but spent more energy training his face and checking on Tessa's composure.

She was not comfortable with their contingency plan. She had made that perfectly clear in a number of ways. She was not a good liar, but she would have to be a passable one. That thought seemed to be weighing on her. Her shoulders were tense enough that Matt could practically hear the muscle fibers popping. If she didn't relax some she'd--she'd experience nothing. Sore muscles were not a concern of hers. Or Matt's. He needed to be paying better attention to the direct. They'd finally made it to the thin ice.

"…a result, I store memories via organic and artificial means, a trans-media redundancy as it were."

"So, in a way, your memories are immune to the effects of the defense's powers?"

"Those experiences stored as code, yes."

"Would you say that your… redundancy bestows upon you perfect recall?"

"As long as my inorganic memory is left uncorrupted, yes."

To Matt's left, Tessa's heart rate doubled. This was the line of questioning they had hoped to be avoid. In retrospect, that was silly optimism. This was inevitable, just like Tessa had said. Luckily, she was staying in character despite her nerves. Her posture and other body language was successfully telegraphing 'surprised and intrigued' instead of the dread and anxiety she was fighting to control. Matt also leaned forward, head cocked to the side in anticipation of Kendrick's point, also ignoring the whispers of doubt in the back of his mind.

"And how could your inorganic memory be corrupted?"

"As any artificial memory is corrupted, code introduced to destroy. Malware or virus. However, such a program would have to be extremely advanced to infiltrate my defenses. In fact, as human technology stands, nothing could penetrate my firewall. I would have to design and insinuate such a virus into my systems for it to exist and succeed."

"And you have not done this?"

"I have no recollection or logs suggesting this, but then again, if I had, there would be no trace."

Kendrick sighed. "Indeed. An airtight bit of circularity. But, what would spur you to do such a thing? Nothing, surely. You are a completely logical being, governed by a strict logical, ethical, and moral code, correct?"

"Correct."

"And as such, your testimony is valid and irrefutable. The ideal witness, unable to be bribed or coerced--"

"My apologies, counselor, but I am not unable to be coerced." The whole courtroom seemed to pause with Kendrick. "I possess sentience. I am a product of this gem and am so bestowed with an independent and genuine mind, despite being divided between organic and artificial receptacles. As a result, I am as regrettably vulnerable to the effects of the other product of this gem as any human."

Tessa's hands were trembling. Foggy's ulcer was acting up. Matt felt like his teeth were cracking as he clenched his jaw. By the stand, Kendrick was faltering, the heel of her shoe screeching as she whipped around on it. She, obviously, had not been prepared for this turn of events.

"I--I'm sorry, Mr. Vision, but will you explain? What--or _who_ is the other product of this… this gem you are… currently in possession of?"

There was no pause, no change of inflection in Vision's voice. For all his intelligence, the gravity of his response seemed to escape him. "Wanda Maximoff. The media knows of her as the Scarlet Witch. The power that manifests from her is an effect of her mind. She can will alterations on reality, including but not limited to the organic mind." The air left the room and yet Vision continued, standing through the detonation of this bomb. "By my estimation, Wanda Maximoff alone would have the power to compel me to engage in an action against my will such as this."

On cue, Matt felt Tessa react. Her mouth dropped open, hand raised to cover it. Foggy, too, was playing his part. He hopped to his feet, ready to object to the inevitable next question.

"This… this is unprecedented. I must ask this, Vision, when last do you have knowledge of Ms. Maximoff and the defendant interacting?"

"Objection, Your Honor! There is no guilt by association."

"Overruled. The court will hear this answer, but only regard it for its explicit testimony and no implications."

"The last known interaction between Dr. Bisho and Wanda Maximoff occurred twenty six days ago, when Wanda and I visited her in the detention center to suggest the dampening procedure."

"They both had access to you, Vision, the same day the defendant was granted request for bail?"

"Objection! Your--"

"Sustained." Judge Hayford was on his feet, blood pressure sky-rocketing. "This court will adjourn for the foreseeable future. Counselors, my chambers in five minutes. We must discuss the repercussions of this unknown factor. Evidence tampering… untenable accusations… Bailiff!"

The room was on the verge of boiling over. The simmer of shock began rolling when Hayford lost his cool and stormed out. Disgruntled murmurs grew into angry conversations, most directed against Tessa. The jurors had immediately been escorted out, to await word from a sealed room, but Tessa still had to deal with the swelling ill will towards her. She was handling it, but her defenses had already been compromised by the Vision situation. If she didn't slow her breathing soon, she would succumb to the anxiety attack looming over her.

"Hold on, Tessa." Matt ushered her in front of their bench before finishing gathering his materials. It felt like things were about to get physical on the other side of the partition.

Foggy must have sensed the same. "We'll meet you in the chambers, Matt. Come on, Tessa. They'll have a holding area for you, away from these… highly excitable individuals…"

The bailiff was attempting to clear the room, but was having a real time of it. The gallery was full of people who wanted more information and suddenly were not going to accept 'no' as an answer. Vision was still seated behind the stand, drawing most of the attention, apparently nonplussed by the whole situation. Or resigned to staying there as long as need be.

Other witnesses on the docket for that day had managed to escape the fray. Stark was long gone, as was Dr. Cho and, of course, Banner who'd never shown. Dr. Strange, his weird patchouli and other unidentifiable fragrance-laced presence remained in his seat, completely still. Deep in meditation, judging by the infrequent thu-thump of his heart. Their wild card witness had also amazingly stayed put and stayed quiet. Matt wondered how long that would last. He couldn't predict with any certainty, what with the man's vitals making as much sense as just about anything else he did. Expectations were not high. Frankly, it was a miracle nothing had mysteriously exploded that morning. Matt wasn't banking on him being there when the recess ended. Instead, his hope rested on the non-star witnesses returning, on the dozen or so of those who would testify to Mnemosyne's altruism from firsthand experience. That's if there would even be a venue for them to do that productively in half an hour.

Matt approached Hayford's chambers with some apprehension. Something was off in the courtroom, even more so than the riot on the verge of starting, something more subtle than that. After a check ahead, he found the pair of heartbeats he was searching for, behind a steel enforced wall. Foggy had gotten Tessa to the holding area safely. Now, to focus on the thing out of place.

Sound was unreliable, too much commotion from the disgruntled crowd, noises bouncing off of too many smooth surfaces. It was like a fun-house for sighted people. He couldn't find the real source of anything. Windows made it too hot to feel anything more specific than the sunlight, jostling bodies made for unreliable air movements. Reverb from a hundred pairs of feet and that damned jackhammer down the street took out tactile sound. That left smell.

The room was teeming with scents. Why did people feel the need to douse themselves in artificial fragrances? How did they taste their food with that cloud of chemicals permeating everything around them? A strategic loss of grip allowed Matt a few extra moments to scent the room as he gathered his papers. There was more than the standard Old Spice and Dove. A few people were smokers, unexceptional. Others regularly enjoyed the more pungent foods, onions, garlic, fish. One had a few too many cats, another a new car air freshener. Someone was already drinking, scotch on their breath. And--

Matt froze, focusing on the distinctive combination now fading from the southwest exit. Spiced smoke, the roast of lapsang souchong and star anise, cocoa butter and gunpowder. He held his breath, pushing past everything else and searching for that Swiss watch heartbeat he knew to accompany the smell, that set his teeth on edge and made his gut twist. There. Already outside, disappearing into the public. Normally, he'd be happy to hear her departing, but now it jabbed his fight or flight response with a big stick. Why? Why was Natasha Romanoff stalking Tessa's trial from the shadows? She had no sanctions against her preventing her attendance, no EPBs, half her team was already seated openly in the crowd. It didn't make sense, unless she suddenly wasn't being a team player. What was her game?

"Mr. Murdock?" The bailiff, sent to collect him no doubt. A surprise. Matt needed to focus, rein it all in. "Are you alright? You looked like you've just seen a gho-- I mean, excuse me. I'm sorry. I only meant--"

"No, no. No need to apologize. I was caught off guard, missed a lip on the floor just here." Matt made a show of feeling for the warp in the flooring with his cane. Hopefully, that was more successful than had been his attempt to only panic secretly.

Mr. Pena knelt down immediately, heart still racing from his embarrassment, and gathered the wayward file Matt that had been pretending to search for a few moments before. "Here. I've got this. Let me help you to the judge's chambers."

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr. Pena."

The judges quarters were like a sauna. Stepping inside, Matt immediately found it uncomfortable to breath. The stink of stress and fear was even thicker in here and made him want to gag. It made sense, though. The situation was not a good one. You'd have to be crazy not to be sweating bullets.

"Be straight with me, Kendrick. Why'd you have that robot on the stand today? You didn't depose him, you knew it was a risk. What were you taking that risk for?"

Kendrick was rattled but not addled. Sure, her heart was river dancing against her ribcage, but it was a steady, if overly rapid, pace. "I took a calculated risk, Your Honor, yes. We knew that he would have some inside data the others didn't, purely because of his unique… capacity for observation."

"And deductive reasoning, obviously." Foggy cut in, vein in his temple pulsing. Angry. "Flawlessly executed, sure, but that quote-unquote evidence he just presented about this Scarlet Witch is just a guess, albeit an empirically reasoned one, but that doesn't make it not conjecture! Did you brief him at all?"

" _Of course_ we briefed him. We told him the parameters of procedure and, technically, he followed them exactly. He was simply answering questions based on his expert knowledge."

"It no longer matters what procedure it was or was not following, counselors!" Hayford was pacing, flushed, pulling at the neck of his robes. "At this point, I must determine if this trial may proceed. To do so, I need to find out what in the world this… this _… witch_ is capable of. What do you know of her?"

"Nothing, Your Honor. This was the first I've heard of her… besides perhaps some news coverage at some point." Kendrick broke the pencil she had been nervously twiddling and then promptly sank into a chair. She really was at a loss.

"We've heard of her, Your Honor, from reports about the Avengers team. And, I believe, Dr. Bisho mentioned her once after her release from the detention facility, but she was not well at the time and we could not make much of what she'd said." It wasn't _untrue_. Matt could feel Foggy nodding along, to him is was entirely true.

"I assume Stark and his associates would have her rap sheet. I need to consult with them and make a ruling on the fitness of this case. You _will_ contact me directly if any information regarding this Maximoff woman surfaces in relation to our defendant or this case in general. You are dismissed."

Compared to Hayford's offices, the holding area in which Tessa was waiting was an oasis. He could breathe again beside her. Whether because of the freshness of the air or the reassuring pulse of her heart, Matt couldn't say for certain.

"That was…"

"A train wreck, Matt. We have the worst luck."

"I was going to say unexpected, but… yes, that too." He turned to Tessa, listening for the pulse behind her rapid breathing. Now was not the time for a panic attack. "Are you alright?"

She was tugging at her hair, a tiny squeak coming from skin dragging down the strands. It was like they were screaming, but Tessa couldn't hear that. "Just… recovering from… all that. What happened in the judge's quarters? What's going to happen?"

"Not sure. This is unprecedented." Foggy dropped down on her other side. "Hayford has to determine if this constitutes a mistrial or not."

"And if it does?"

"Then, we'd have to start this process all over again."

"And who knows what sort of predetermining circumstances will have changed…"

Matt could feel Tessa's eyes cutting into him. Her hand rested on the bench between them, twitching as she fought from reaching for him. This was torture.

"And if they do change?"

Foggy shut down. He hated giving bad news. Matt was left to bear this one. "It won't be for the best… Essentially, a mistrial would guarantee the loss of your autonomy. That's best case scenario."

Tessa didn't react. She had expected this. That didn't make it any less miserable. Foggy let out an enormous sigh and stood. So the pacing began. Minutes passed at a painfully slow pace. Matt counted the relay thrums of Tessa's inhibitor. She had retreated into a reverie, whether a meditative one or not Matt could not determine. Outside of the holding cell, things were frenetic. Footsteps rattled off like artillery fire, voices popped and burst down the halls. Emotions were high and thin, fit to break. Out of the cacophony, Matt caught one set of noises heading their way. Squeak and scrape of standard issue rubber soles, jangling of keys and gear. A crackling of energy. A security guard of some kind was approaching, with a cattle prod. The scent of nicotine gum identified it as a bailiff, Mr. Pena.

"Dr. Bisho." The door opened slowly. He was a gentle man at heart. He didn't want to do what he had come here to do. "Please stand."

"Whoa, Pena! Wha--what's going on?" Foggy saw the electrified baton and moved to stand between Tessa and the bailiff. "Hey, now. No need for that. She's already cooperating, sitting in a holding area. She's--"

"Sorry, Mr. Nelson, but Dr. Bisho needs to be moved. Judge's directions." Mr. Pena didn't advance, however, he stood in the doorway, baton sizzling in his hands. His heart was steady as he spoke. 

"It's okay, Foggy. I'm sure there is good reason." Matt stood with Tessa, guided her gently towards the door. "The atmosphere turning out there, Mr. Pena?"

"Uh, yes, Mr. Murdock. Turning quick. This is…" He lowered his voice. "There's been a threat on the courthouse. We're evacuating in a few moments, but the judge wanted you and Dr. Bisho out first, in case someone used the… the commotion to…"

"Indeed. Any word on when or where we are reconvening?"

"No, sir. Not that I'd be let in on that… Come on. Service entrance is down here…"


	12. Histrionics and Theatrics

Precisely four hours and forty-nine minutes later, Tessa still sat in the witness protection safe house located at an undisclosed location, arrived at by an undisclosed route. Of the three people sat in that room, two of them knew exactly where they were. The third was asleep. Foggy had given up pacing around minute ninety-two and had given up on consciousness around minute two hundred and ten. Tessa had been literally counting the minutes. Surveillance covered the room, so she was left with little other recourse than to count said minutes. All topics with Matt in the safe-zone had been covered within the first twenty minutes. Now they could only wait.

"I don't actually believe it, but it feels like they've forgotten we're in here," Matt said out of the blue. Tessa had assumed he'd been meditating.

"Feels that way, doesn't it? Maybe this is it. Maybe this is how they'll transition me into my eternal imprisonment."

Matt scoffed. "Don't start with the pessimism now. It isn't healthy." He was being terse. Frustrated.

"Clearly, you two should have opted to remain with Kendrick and her team. I bet they're being treated better, seeing as they're not the ones on trial."

"And then you'd be alone and we would not know how you were being treated. … And Foggy wouldn't have been able to get in his two o' clock nap."

Tessa laughed in spite of herself. "Too true. I wonder if we'll get an in-flight meal. This feels like it's going to take over the standard six hour time limit."

"I hope it doesn't. If it does, I doubt we'll be much impressed with the amenities."

"I'm certainly not so far." Tessa shifted in her seat. She couldn't feel pain really, but two hundred and ninety-one minutes on a steel bench didn't exactly feel great. Matt's bottom had to be aching. She shouldn't think about his bottom. Too late.

"At least we have this delightful elevator music to distract ourselves with." Matt's voice was dripping with sarcasm. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. The music was a little too loud, a little garbled by the room's speakers and, no doubt, scrambling tech. And, this was the eighty-third iteration of the same tune. It had to be murder on his head.

"Maybe… I have another theory. Ready? We actually died on the way to the safe house and this is hell."

"Would explain the painfully slow passage of time." Matt's light mood faded and lapsed again into melancholic silence. Tessa should have known better than to make a hell joke. He took it too seriously.

Two hundred and ninety-seven minutes.

Three hundred and fifteen.

Three hundred and fifty-one.

Three hundred and fifty-two and Matt perked up again. He turned his head and tucked his chin. Tessa waited. Someone was coming. She felt the thump of their steps a few moments later, heard the low tones of them speaking.

"… the hell knows where they are. I just know we're done waiting here."

"Thank god. This place has no cable…"

Tessa had no idea who they'd been talking about, but Matt probably did. The key pad outside was beeping already, though, so she'd have to wait to ask him.

"Oh, Christ. The Muzak in here. Sorry. It's supposed to be tech-blocking or whatever, but you'd think they could run those signals through better music."

Tessa didn't recognize their faces, but she did recognize their uniforms. A U.S. Marshal and a Fed. They were there to escort them somewhere else.

"Any chance we could get a sandwich in this place?" Their voices must have woken Foggy. He was gingerly trying to stretch his back as they stepped further inside.

"Nah, that'd been nice, wouldn't it, counselor? Nothing pleasant here. Luckily for all of us, we're heading back into the world. Threat's been cleared. Dr. Bisho? Please stand, we have to blindfold you again. You too, Mr. Nelson."

"Not me?" Matt muttered, causing the two of them to glance uncomfortably at each other.

"Ignore him, guys," Foggy hopped in. "His humor gets pretty dark when he's hungry."

"Oh. Ha-ha. That's… yeah…"

Tessa fought not to react to the bitter smirk on Matt's face, the last thing she saw before the band placed over her eyes darkened everything.

"So… any word on what the actual threat was?" Poor Foggy, fighting to recover the mood.

"Anti-enhanced group. Had some bombs they tried to place on the block. Black Widow neutralized it, so we've been told."

"That was courteous of her." Tessa didn't need to see him to know precisely what expression Matt was wearing as he said that. "And fortuitous that she was around."

"Yeah… boy, would I love to meet her. Don't get me wrong, she scares the hell outta me, but I'd _love_ to meet her."

"There's a club out there for that, Howie. Focus…"

 _Yeah, Howie. Focus_ , Tessa thought to herself and rolled her eyes. She hoped the rest of their transport wouldn't involve any more fawning, especially not any gross fawning. She certainly wouldn't be able to censor herself the next time Natasha was brought up. She'd burst that pervy bubble with pleasure.

Fortunately, for everyone involved, the topic was not raised again and, eighteen minutes later, Tessa was looking at the service entrance of the court house once more.

"Uh… are we going back in there or…?"

The Marshal waved his hand towards the door. "Yeah, it's open. Judge Hayford wants to have a meeting with both parties. I imagine he has a decision for you, maybe some plans."

The door locked with a resounding _shunk_ behind them. It was afterhours at the courthouse, so the lights were on reserve, every four feet or so a dim rectangle of shining wood. It made Tessa feel off, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Foggy sighed and pushed the strap of his bag back up onto his shoulder. "Alright, let's get this over with so we can eat, drink, and then pass out."

"Agreed--" Matt paused midstep, arms stretched out to catch Tessa and Foggy.

The shadows ahead of them shifted for a moment before the phosphorescent caught a flash of red. "Counselors. I need to borrow your client. Just a moment."

Tessa let out the breathe she'd just sucked in. It was just Natasha. Matt, however, did not likewise relax. Tess gently leaned around his arm. "I'll be right back. Don't worry," she added under her breath.

Natasha waited for her, hip thrown out to the side, little smirk on her face. Full Widow. But, only until they were out of sight. In the small side office she pulled Tessa into, she looked anxious. "Delicate situation you find yourself in, Tessa."

"What's new? I'm… surprised you've deigned to pay me a visit. In person."

"Desperate times…" Natasha glanced around the room again, pulling out a small device. "You inhibitors shouldn't be affected by this," she muttered before activating it.

"Okay… what's all this about, Natasha? Why not drop me another weird ass package or mysterious memory?"

"Too long a message, too complicated, too important. Take your pick. And, I was already in the neighborhood."

"So I heard. Thanks for stopping the bombers."

"I was the bombers--shh." She held a hand over Tessa's mouth. "They were never active."

"But they were real bombs?!"

"Had to be… just in case. Something had to be done. Vision was tactlessly pulling the rug out from under your case. The mood for the day was entirely spoilt. Everyone needed to take a step back and reassess, come back to the evidence with a fresh outlook. Now they can."

"Uh… is this where I'm supposed to thank you?"

A smile bloomed over Natasha's face. It gave Tessa a bitter sort of flutter in her chest. "You've grown spunky, Tessa. I like it. But, keep it to yourself for a moment, I'm going to… debrief, for old times' sake. Vision blew a hole in the People's case, too. Kendrick and her team are scrambling just as much tweedle dee and dum out there--"

"They're not--"

"I _know_ , listen. No one knows how to deal with Wanda. This may turn in your favor, though. The judge is in over his head now. He's panicking, compromised. He has a stake in this case--enhanced family members no one knows about, except me, of course--"

"I saw them."

"--and you. He'll want to tie this case up quickly, before anyone figures out he's not exactly unbiased. It's highly unlikely he will call a mistrial, as a result. He won't want some other judge reviewing this with a fine-toothed comb, or worse some other court ruling in a way that adversely affects his family. And I stirred the pot more today. The public's in panic, fit to boil over. Gen pop doesn't like hate crime that ends up being domestic terrorism. Too much collateral damage, can't justify the bigotry. It may even buy you some sympathy, but no matter what, it'll… _encourage_ the court to speed through things. Less chance of being blown up that way. I've given you what advantage I could. Just don't let your frankly over-motivated attorney white knight this advantage into the toilet, yes?"

"Nelson and Murdock are professionals. They--"

Another smirk. This one horribly smug. "Please, Tessa… I'm a spy. And, you were never a good liar. Он умный и добрый. Я рад за тебя. I'll see you in D.C.."

"D.C.? What's in D.C.? Natasha?" Tessa asked, stumbling a little in her cuffs. Natasha gave no response, and Tessa, hating herself for it, just watched her walk out. "Well… shit…"

By the time Tessa shuffled her way back into the hallway, Natasha had melted away again. Matt was by her side almost immediately, the tips of his ears red.

"It's _so_ convenient she was around this afternoon."

"Yeah… she's… good with intel. Speaking of, uh, she thinks we won't go into mistrial."

"Unless, of course, Hayford gets tired of waiting on us," Foggy said, tugging them both down the hall. "Come on. The sooner this is done, the sooner we get fed, drunk, and rested. I imagine we'll need it for tomorrow."

 

"…The People versus Dr. Theresa Bisho reconvening, the honorable Judge William Hayford presiding. You may all take your seats. The judge would like to address the jury before proceedings resume."

"This should be good." After the drama from the day before, Tessa's support group had turned out in full force and on high alert. Luke was no better at keeping his thoughts to himself, though.

On Tessa's left, Matt squirmed a little, failing to stifle a sigh. Didn't matter. Unless Hayford had a pair of ears on him like Matt's, he didn't overhear Luke's snark or Matt's discomfort. The whole room was abuzz. Press lined the walls, security hemmed them in. Body on top of body. Tessa couldn't imagine how loud it was for Matt in there. At least the air conditioner was on today. It didn't taste like sweat in there. Yet.

"Members of the jury, we are all fully aware of the fact that yesterday saw the revelation of something truly surprising. This courtroom, however, is a sanctuary of law based on empirical evidence, not on sensationalism and fear. Not matter how harrowing the idea of an individual capable of mind-altering acts, this court cannot buckle and leave the justice of this case un-administered. Furthermore, I am told this individual is incapable of sustained acts of manipulation; her psychological effect is temporary. There will be no mistrial. I have seen no miscarriage of this justice system in action and, against all odds with a factor such as this, this case is ripe with evidence. As a result, members of the jury, you will disregard all information pertaining to yesterday's testimony about one, Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, or anything else you have heard about her. Finally, your personal opinions on this individual or others like her will _not_ impact your decision about the case at hand."

Hayford's speech had been firm, his tone commanding, but Tessa looked over the faces filling the jury box and felt her mouth go dry. Not one of them looked calm, looked impartial. No wonder Foggy had briefed her on not drawing conclusions that morning. He'd known what they were going to be up against: twelve people with the uncompromising belief that Tessa deserved to be buried under the full force of the American penal system.

"I'm fucked," Tessa muttered under her breath, giving into the burning in her eyes. "I'm well and truly fucked."

"No, you're not. You haven't seen Foggy really in action yet. He's an artist." There had been a time when Tessa would have believed anything Matt whispered in her ear like that. Sadly for Tessa, that time had passed.

"The court will now hear from the defense."

"Thank you, Your Honor. The defense would like to call Anthony Stark to the stand."

Tony Stark was the last person Tessa wanted to listen to right at that moment, no matter how masterfully Foggy was guiding his testimony, no matter what a bright and shiny picture the two of them were painting about her. She was flat out uninterested. Matt had predicted five hours today of direct and cross examination, closing arguments and deliberation tomorrow should only take about four. In under twenty four hours, Tessa would be hearing her fate read to her in the cold, vindictive words of the foreperson. This day would be her last with a view of the sky, with her mind un-fried, with any kind of contact with friends. And, she had to sit there and listen to Stark gloat, had to sit there and feel the hate press down on her from all those terrified eyes. This was her last full day in this life, and it was being wasted.

"I'm not gonna say that it's a perfect algorithm, but I'd invite anyone to find a hole in it."

"And these, Mr. Stark, are the physical copies of the projections?" Foggy was hoisting several reams of papers from the evidence table.

"That'd be them. Logs and projections accounting for over four hundred years. Recycled paper, don't worry."

There were a few chuckles throughout the gallery. Glancing over, Tessa noticed some of the jury members almost not scowling. Stark really did have an immense amount of charisma. Nice to see it working in her favor.

"And what exactly can we surmise from this mountain of numbers?"

"Oh, I can more than surmise, Mr. Nelson. I know, for a complete and utter fact because of those numbers, that human memory was deteriorating. Projections placed worldwide permanent memory loss by 2017. I couldn't risk the whole planet being run by goldfish. You think the UN summits are bad now…"

More chuckles. One juror actually cracked a smile.

"And when you rescued Mnemosyne by joining it with Dr. Bisho?"

"Check page 5523. All the low numbers spiked."

"So, we can thank you for my pop remembering to buy my ma some flowers for their anniversary?"

"One way of looking at it. The other is, the unique energy field we now know to be the transcendental force feeding memory in sentient beings doubled overnight. Then, it tripled. I wouldn't be surprised if over half the people polled in this room would attest to simple, memory-related tasks becoming more second nature in the past months."

A few people were nodding their heads, some murmurs bubbled up in the back of the room. Tessa glanced over at Kendrick's bench as she began muttering to her assistant, only to realize she'd missed something obvious that morning. Walters was absent. That was a different assistant at Kendrick's ear. She was absent that morning for some reason and Tessa couldn't let it go.

With the shiny new 'inhibitor' on, things didn't bleed into Tessa's mind, but she was far from powerless. It would feel like her head was in a vacuum, but if she focused, she might be able to find out what happened with Walters. So, she found a spot on the wall to stare at and dove straight in. Downtown, in a cramped and cluttered office, Jennifer Walters had most recently sat staring at forms, held between well-groomed but distinctly non-green fingertips. There was some good news, no new hulk rampaging through the city. And, Kendrick had lost her right hand. It might not be an advantage for Tessa, but it couldn't hurt. Probably.

"Stephen Vincent Strange."

Tessa blinked a few times, the good doctor's clipped consonants shaking her from her trance. She glanced around, in some confusion. Dr. Strange was scheduled as their fifth witness for the day. Had something changed? Then, she noticed the sun was on the other side of the courthouse. The water pitcher on their table was significantly lighter. Finding Walters had taken far longer than Tessa had thought.

"And, are you a medical doctor, Dr. Strange?"

"I am, among other things."

This was perhaps the quietest the room had been that day. A stillness fell over them when Strange spoke, certainly not to Tessa's surprise. Whereas Stark worked a room with magnetism and pomp, charming his listeners with his winning personality, Strange commanded their attention simply with his voice. It emanated authority and a confidence independent of external opinion. Today, the pitch and timbre really rang out against the marble and wood of the courtroom, resonated for a real entrancing effect. His magic probably helped with that, too.

"And your focus?"

"I was trained in neurosurgery."

"Would you do us all the favor of explaining the graphic on the screen?"

"This is an MRI scan of the brain of an individual who appears to be suffering from an extreme form of dementia, most likely Alzheimer's from the degeneration of the hippocampus. It is unlikely they have any access to long term memories at this stage."

"As you can see from the label, this is scan from one, Dwanye Garrett, 51. He was a resident of a local assisted care facility up until two months ago. His wife was no longer able to care for him on her own. He didn't remember who she was." Foggy paced in front of the screen slowly, watching as the jurors reacted to the photo of the man beside his brain scan. After a moment, he clicked the remote and a new image filled the screen. "And what would you surmise from this MRI, doctor?"

"Normal brain activity. All regions are appropriately sized and shaped."

"And your reaction, if I were to tell you that this is from the same Dwayne Garrett, taken one week ago?"

Strange's eyes cut to the screen again, cold, indifferent. "I would tell you that that is medically impossible. The degeneration was too profound to be restored by pharmaceuticals or cognitive therapy."

"And yet, it is Mr. Garrett's brain." The screen flashed with several other images, more comprehensive, all labeled D Garrett, all showing restored brain activity. "His Alzheimer's was summarily cured. How might you, as a veritable expert on the brain, explain this?"

"I would say that Mr. Garrett found a cure unexplored by Western medicine."

"As a medical doctor, you don't sound all that skeptical." Foggy tossed the remote in the air and, catching it, set it down on the railing of the jury box.

"My expertise is not restricted to Western medicine, Mr. Nelson. Human experience is far too broad to be encapsulated in the sterile observations of surgical theaters and petri dishes, nor indeed in laboratories in general. Modern science, as advanced as it now is, is limited. Humanity has, therefore, adapted other, similarly experimental conceptual fields by which to understand the world."

"If not science, then what, doctor?"

"The left hand path to knowledge. Many in this age would call it mysticism."

"So, are you saying your expertise extends to… magic?"

Strange was unblinking, but his cheek twitched a tick. "Indeed."

"But how can one be an expert in an unproven field?"

"Unproven according to the dominant cultures of this world, but not untried nor ineffective, as I'm sure Mr. Garrett would attest to. Regardless, by modern standards, I am an expert in the mystical because I have devoted years to internalizing every culture's teachings on the subject. If you'd like, you may refer to me as an anthropologist focusing on comparative mythologies." He flicked his hand dismissively, the screen faltering and relighting to an animated PET scan of Mr. Garrett's brain, vibrant and active.  

The room came alive with gasps and murmurs. Hayford slammed his gavel. "Order. Bailiff check the connection on the screen. Mr. Nelson, do proceed and get to your point. I do not take kindly to sensationalizing parlor tricks."

"N--no parlor tricks, Your Honor…" Foggy made a show of gathering the remote again. Beside Tessa, Matt was grinning. "So, Dr. Strange. What would your non-medical opinion be on the regression of Mr. Garrett's dementia?"

"Mr. Garrett's conditioned was ameliorated because his electrochemical processes, observably impaired according to Western medicine, were unimpaired by a force as of yet unexplained by science. Emeoune is such a force, an entity eons old, known across cultures, but most famously in this hemisphere as the ancient Greeks' Mnemosyne, who protects memory. And indeed, it seems to do so in such a way as Stark has hypothesized, an energy source to the microcosms in each of us. In my specialty, however, it does not so much matter _how_ something works, but that it does. And, Mnemosyne, in the instantiation of Dr. Theresa Bisho, certainly works. She has preserved not only the memories of this Dwayne Garrett, but his capacity for creating and retaining them." 

Strange waved again, this time pointedly towards the rear of the room, where Mr. Garrett sat quietly with his wife. When the whole room turned, as if compelled, to look his way, he gave a small smile and a wave.

"And if she didn't work, in your expert opinion, Dr. Strange?"

He paused, expression ominously clouded. "Well, then… we would all, just as Stark predicted, be doomed to a life lived _only_ in the moment within the year."

Foggy clicked the remote once more, settling back on the image of Mr. Garrett's withered brain. "No further questions, Your Honor."

He retreated to their bench quickly, cautious relief on his face. They had all come in that morning knowing that Dr. Strange's testimony was going to be a risk. There was no telling just how far the belief systems of their audience would stretch, even considering the circumstances of the trial. They had certainly expected Kendrick to ridicule mercilessly the magical expertise approach. But, as she approached the stand, there was no derision in her face, no smugness. Her jaw was set, brow dropped, eyes warily locked on Strange.

"Dr. Strange, to clarify for the more _mundane_ here, you claim to be an expert in magic?"

"That is essentially what I have professed, counselor."

"Great. That must have taken quite some courage, coming here, outing yourself in a court that is actively trying to restrict persons who threaten the natural order of things with their enhanced abilities. You must be rather selfless. Do you consider this a personal risk?"

"Shit," Foggy whispered down the table. "She's going to undermine his testimony, make him look crazy, provoke an outburst."

"First, I didn't claim to be a _practitioner_ of magic. The metaphor I used was anthropologist, a cataloguer of practices. Second, as I stated before, Dr. Bisho's presence I know to be essential to the natural order of things and I am here, no matter the consequences, to do my part to preserve that. If I were to put myself under scrutiny in the process, it would be well worth it. So, in summary, no."

"Selfless. That's admirable. So, the defendant is, in your opinion, a magic user?"

Strange actually rolled his eyes. "No, counselor. Dr. Bisho does not use magic."

"She doesn't? Then, how can you claim to be an expert about her conditions?"

"The difficulty you are facing is a discrepancy between what magic is conceived to be and what it is. The general population believes magic to be, if they even entertain the idea that it exists, the less savory cousin of science, an outlook on the forces of existence with an eye for manipulation, which then leads to power and control. In a way, this is accurate. Much like the understanding of quantum physics would allow for humans to replicate forces at work in this universe, magic can emulate nature. But, it is more than this as well. Science understands and explains the forces of the world, magic transcends the rules of science and effects change beyond them but entirely through a wider scope of understanding. Because it is not bounded by the laws of science or physics or what have you, magic can allow for understanding of things that operate outside the rules of nature as mankind knows them. Thus, I can say Emeoune is not magical and yet claim to be an expert on her abilities because she is a force of nature beyond human ken and I know the ways of such forces. I am well-studied in them."

"The defendant manipulates nature, then?"

"No. She _is_ a force of nature, like the air currents or gravity, but sentient."

"And you know this how?"

"Because I know how to look."

"Because you study magic?"

"Indeed."

"Magic, which allows you to see… forces of nature beyond… normal human knowledge… I'm sorry, doctor, but I don't understand. How can you know that the defendant isn't using magic, or worse, abusing the natural state of things with her new superhuman powers?"

"I've studied. I know the patterns, how they manifest."

"And how do they manifest?"

Strange looked from Kendrick, her fingers tapping against the witness stand, face puckered into confusion, and then sighed. "In order for the question you really want to ask to be answered, counselor, you would be required to expand your mind beyond its currently hairsbreadth-narrow comprehension of the world, which I doubt could be accomplished with you taking my word on it. So, I will just show you."

As he finished speaking, Dr. Strange unfolded his hands and locked them in a casting gesture. Light sparked around each as he made two sweeping arcs in mirror-form. "ಆತ್ಮಗಳು." Waving upward, Strange scattered constellations across the ceiling of the room. Bright sparks of glowing colors drifted up from each person, in different combinations and intensities, dulling the phosphorescents and filling the room with gasps.

"Behold the human soul, counselor, or consciousness or what have you, that spark of individuality driving the personality of each of us. A force of nature, inexplicable by science-- though it may try --that I, with my _parlor tricks_ may observe, may note patterns within. Direct your attention to my own. Observe the flecks of iridescence, the distortions, the magic at work. Now, compare Dr. Bisho's-- pure starlight, natural, the pattern of her uniform. Each time Theresa Bisho dons her suit and assumes the mantle of Mnemosyne, she bares her soul. She doesn't work magic, creating interference in the resonance, she merely channels that nature now symbiotic with her being."

Kendrick had no response. Hayford didn't react either. The whole room had cast their eyes upward, gazing at the illusion Strange had conjured above their heads. Strange glanced around the room with a smirk. "So, what so you think, counselor? Am I insane? A charlatan? Or an expert attesting to the benign entity now residing in Dr. Bisho?"

Mnemosyne really was beautiful. Tessa hadn't forgotten, of course. She just hadn't thought about her in a while. Deep purple, flecked with white and silver, swirling above Tessa's head like some far off supernova, she out-sized the auroras of everyone else. Other points of light were mixed in, clustering along the edge in pinks and greens, some feeding farther in, but by and large, Mnemosyne dominated Tessa's projection. Yes, she was spectacular, but also familiar. And not alone, she was swaying in a kind of current with the smaller amorphous clouds littering the air. Colors and wisps of light breathed against the background of the ceiling, grouped like drifting clouds, some tighter, others spread thinner, all shimmering in contact with the rest, tiny jittering flashes flitting between them like arching electricity. They were linked, loosely connected, sharing light and blending color but distinct. Their unity, Tessa noticed, stemmed from a kind of orchestrated pattern in light and color and movement and dimly flowed around, into, and from Mnemosyne, as if the point of gravity for their orbit.

"Durkheim once theorized a kind of collective consciousness uniting humanity. It was a social construct. Jung added to this idea, asserting that something underpinned the thoughts of mankind, explaining the ideas shared across peoples and times. They were not wrong, as we now know. We are all connected in some way in this ethereal net of memories, the recorded essence of mankind. And you've put it on trial for violating your basic human rights. Surely I am not alone in detecting a deep vein of irony in these actions."

The soul projection glowed blindingly bright for an instant and then faded, Mnemosyne blinking out last of all. Tessa looked up in time to catch the eerie spectral eye on Strange's forehead closing and dispersing. Silence stayed thick in the room, the light, unnaturally dimmed before, slowly filtering back through the window and fixtures overhead. And with the light, the rumble of fear and excitement and confusion broke out around them. Hayford slammed his gavel onto the bench, standing when the outburst did not die down.

"I _will_ have order! Counselor, do something with this witness!"

Kendrick leaned away from the jury stand where she had been slumped. Her face was still marred with shock, but she managed to stand upright. "N--no further questions, Your Honor."

"Dr. Strange, remove yourself from the stand. Mr. Pena, escort this witness to my chambers. This court is adjourned. Indefinitely." Hayford, tossing the gavel aside, stormed from the bench, his eye locked on Strange as he passed.

"H--Holy shit. Can I say that? Was that… I mean… just… holy shit. Matt. Matt, you should've--it was… I never thought he'd… I just assumed it was, like… tarot cards or--or… profiling. That was… real… _real_ magic. I saw my dad with hair! I mean… that's… I was too young… What… What just happened?"

Matt was standing, feeling for his briefcase. "I think you said it, Foggy. Magic."

"Did you… feel anything, Matt?"

Reaction entirely veiled, Matt stepped around their table and tapped towards the door to Hayford's chambers. "We need to make sure Strange's testimony isn't dismissed just because it bent everyone's mind in half. Dr. Bisho, please sit tight."

"Sit tight? Did… Did he just request that I stay here and do nothing?"

Foggy gave a small shrug, before hurrying after Matt. Tessa grumbled under breath, but didn't move. That is, until she jumped at the sound of the chair next to her being dragged out.

"That went well… Strange makes me feel like I've swallowed a whole shoe covered in acid, but he certainly put them on their asses." Jess dropped into Matt's seat, a bottle of Lipton slid her way. "You know, I can't brew it, but I can buy you leaf water that's actually more sugar than leaf or water."

Tessa rubbed at the ring of perspiration on the table and then cracked open the bottle. "Thanks, Jess."

"You got it, chica. Want some whiskey in it?"

"I can't believe you smuggled that into a federal courthouse-- well, I _can_ believe it, but still…"

"Yeah, well… what's life if I don't live it on the edge? Any idea what the legal eagles are circling the judge's quarters for?"

"They're worried Dr. Strange's testimony will be officially stricken because it's so whack-a-doodle."

Jess scoffed, "yeah. It's bat shit fucking nuts. But… so is your thing. Enh, what am I saying? This is the U.S. justice system we're talking about. You're screwed."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I'm nothing if not brutally real. Uh… not an ideal topic, but if this does go down the shitter… you're covered, Tess. Promise." Jess cleared her throat as she stood, forcing her usual smile, and then kissed her on the top of the head. "We take care of our own, too."

Tessa turned and watched Jess walk away, a knot growing in her stomach. At Luke's small nod, she was almost positive she was going to hurl. Matt and Foggy had to pull this off. Tessa could not be responsible for putting Jess and Luke and who knows who else on the run for springing her. Especially when she really didn't want to be anywhere else. That would just be the cherry on top of her shit cake, the extra bit of guilt that would cause. If only she could just tell Jess everything. If only all this didn't have to be a secret. If only this wasn't all so fucked up--

"Uh… hi?" Tessa was interrupted mid-wallowing by yet another guest taking a seat beside her, this one she didn't recognize. "Listen, if you're here to try to kill me or whatever, it's not possible, so save yourself some jail time and move along."

"No, it's _me_. It's kosher."

Tessa stared at the man in front of her, the man she had most definitely never seen before but somehow felt was familiar. His memory revibe was a very particular frequency. "No… You're not…"

"Damn skippy, pretty lady. Goin' legit for my favorite immortal dudette. Well… technically _second_ favorite, but you know what I mean." He threw his thumbs up, a giant goofy grin on this complete stranger's face.

" _Wade_?" She whispered, still struggling to believe that was him. "What is this? Some hologram?" She reached for his face, but he leaned away.

"Easy with the moneymaker, toots. This fancy Halloween mask goes on the fritz and your star witness will be booted before he can be sworn in. … Hologram. Psh. You silly billy. That's so Nicieza. We're definitely in the Duggan years here roundabouts."

"What are you talking about?"

"Shh. Nothing. You're too in-universe to get it. Hey, you wanna Snickers? I can jimmy one outta the vending machine for you while Mr. Wizard gets butt-probed in the principal's office."

"All this being still and sitting quietly really has that jabber mouth of yours over-compensating, hasn't it?"

"Yeah-huh. But that last brain reboot you done on me got me back that year I watched _Wild Things_ twice a day every day. I've kept myself busy."

Tessa pressed her lips together, trying her hardest not to catch any lingering memories. "That's… too much information, Wade. But, I am impressed and touched-- _emotionally_ touched that you've put all this effort in for me. I really, _really_ appreciate it." She caught his hand and patted it gently to emphasize. She wasn't sure he processed any of that, since he was staring off into space just above her head, mumbling, but it was the fact that she said it that mattered. A few seconds in, and Tessa knew he hadn't heard her.

"Well, uh, _Wade_ , it's been so nice of you to stop by and... keep me company but… uh… don't you think you should skedaddle? Before curious eyes notice you here with me?"

"…know that the chemical is a myth sometimes. I peed in that pool in Topeka and nobody noticed. But, the double-sided mirror is real. Remember the snake charmer. Always remember--"

" _Wade_."

His attention snapped over to her. "What's your favorite dinosaur, pretty lady?"

"I'm a Parasaurolophus fan. You know, Ducky from _The Land Before Time_? Kids in the hospital loved that movie… Now, make yourself scarce… people are milling in the hall, I can hear 'em."

"Really?" He stood, frowning down at her, gesturing at his head. "The lame one with the crest?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Tessa hissed and shoved his hip so that he staggered towards the gallery. "Back _to Wild Things_."

Watching him trot off to his seat, Tessa had the ugliest thought. What if they did that to her? What if they locked her in a sterilized dungeon full of machines and scalpels and then sliced and prodded and zapped her until she spoke to the voices in her head? It was a tangible possibility. Even before Mnemosyne, her brain had been a living experiment for Morris. With government sanction, a whole team of ambitious Morris lookalikes might just have free rein in her head. Now, that was a nightmare. For Tessa, but also for everyone else because the voices in her head weren't constructs developed to cope with trauma. They were actual living memories of actual living people.

She groaned and slipped lower into her chair. Jess and Luke would have to grab her and run, her own guilt was worth saving the planet from Deadpool-level delusions. Goodbye home. Goodbye comfort and routine. Goodbye Matt and Foggy and Karen. Goodbye--

_< <Theresa.>>_

Tessa jumped at her name. She didn't so much hear it as feel it. There was no one around her, no one visible, but she could feel a presence. Strange.

_< <Theresa, stop languishing in your self-pity. And stop looking for me. You know I'm not physically there.>>_

The urge to respond with words was difficult to overcome _. <<We've never done the brain telephone thing two-way, doc. Excuse me if I'm flailing a little here. How's your one-on-one with Hayford going?>>_

_< <Poorly. The man has been deeply disturbed by the events today. He is battling with himself, and losing.>>_

_< <Battling how_?>> Tessa glanced around to make sure no one was watching her and then shut her eyes. With the line open, as it were, it was easy enough to swim upstream and see for herself _. <<Whoa. The world is trippier in your head, Strange.>>_

_< <Magic permeates existence when you know how to look for it. And well done, Theresa, very adept. This makes it much simpler for me to explain. Observe Hayford. Note the delay in his astral movements.>>_

Tessa followed Strange's gaze and tried to focus. After a moment, she realized her failure to focus on Hayford wasn't her failure. It was the delay Strange was referring to _. <<The judge is hazy. What does that mean?>>_

_< <Internal conflict. He has been reviewing procedural manuals feverishly. And glancing back at the photograph framed on his desk. I've surmised it is a family member, probably a child, most likely enhanced. I believe he is struggling between upholding his oath--what he believes to be his responsibility to law and order-- and protecting his own interests. Without incanting, I cannot know with any certainty, but I think my display in the courtroom has rearranged his worldview. Hence the internal turmoil: will he follow procedure and dismiss my testimony for the numerous rules of examination that it broke, or will he allow it to stand and provide precedent for any possible litigation his loved one will face for their abilities?>>_

_< <I think it's his daughter, doc, and I think she's got some ability that smacks of magic.>>_

_< <You've read him.>>_

_< <It bled in, just one memory. Felt fond, but also riddled with anxiety. I would wager he's not quite set on how he feels about it.>>_

_< <As I figured, he's fighting with himself. We need a veteran of just such a battle, someone who would talk himself into black hole if it meant he upheld the particular principle he'd idealized that day. Get Stark's attention, I'll do the rest.>>_

Tessa felt especially encumbered back in her own head. A real, fine-tuned machine Strange was operating. She'd have to get some training from him when all this was over. Now that she knew, clunking around in herself like she was all thumbs was incredibly frustrating. Stark. Stark, Stark, Stark. She felt him nearby. The trick was getting him to pay attention the right way. Time for a blast from the past.


	13. Trick or Treason

"I want a squadron of enforcers waiting in the sky. Strange put a target on himself and, while we may not be able to pass through his _security_ system, we can at least escort him into it. And you know what? Add a detail to Mr.--" _Why do I get to be the lucky freak that you wave your fairy wand over? How is that fair?_ "--Uh… Garrett. Add a detail to Mr. Garrett while we're at it."

Stark turned around as his head filled with smells and sounds and light again. The memory was so bright, so profound.

 _I have a foundation to help the people, while we focus on the_ world _-ending problems_.

Oh, the disgust on her face was so tangible--had been. Over a year ago. Next thing she had said had rocked him hard. Set him on his heels. And created the Bigger Problems Initiative. Bisho and her little people… why were they popping up again?

 _Time to focus on the world-ending problems then, Stark, this time in the shape of one person._ Her mouth was moving but the wrong words were coming out. The memory was echoing with feedback. Tessa was tampering. _Hayford needs to be convinced his new priorities are the right ones. You're good at manipulating people, right?_

The feed cut out with a flash of Tessa's bullet-riddled corpse. Tony scoffed, shaking his head, and tucked his phone into his jacket. "Potts, I've got a thing. You got this?"

"You're just a figurehead at this point, Tony," Pepper responded without looking up from her tablet.

He chuckled and headed back for the courtroom. _Alright, Tessa. What's got a bee in your bonnet?_

_< <Not Theresa, Anthony. I just needed your attention.>>_

Tony's step hardly stuttered at the response, despite not expecting one. No one noticed him entering the courtroom again. He even whistled a little. << _You know, Strange, this is ethically ambiguous. Some might even deem it cheating. >>_

_< <The fate of humanity's memory justifies tampering. Come into the judge's chambers. He needs your assistance to rationalize the many laws he is about to break for the greater good.>>_

_< <See, Bisho? Strange knows all about the bigger picture. It's not just me.>>_

_< <She can't hear you. And you're here to convince Hayford, not yourself. You'll have to do better than that.>>_

_< <Yeah, I deserved that.>> _"Gentlemen." Tony threw a winning smile the lawyers' way.

"Um, excuse me? Mr. Stark? What are you--"

"You can't just barge into the judge's chambers, Stark."

"Relax, Law and Order. I've been invited."

 

Across the courtroom, Tessa winced as Stark's hand came down, about to clap onto Matt's shoulder. But, when her eyes opened again, Stark was still walking and thankfully Matt still seemed like the blind civilian he was pretending to be. Now, to wait. Or, to be distracted by the frankly enormous bird sitting in the window. Tessa could have sworn it was looking at her, like _, right_ at her. Then, it squawked, and she jumped.

"Shit!"

It turned its head to the other side, black feathers catching blue-green in the sunlight, and clacked its beak together. It reminded Tessa of something, that gesture. Laughter. The damned crow was laughing at her _. Alright, Tessa, you're losing your shit. Get it together…_

_< <Yes, do pull yourself together, Theresa. That's a magpie, not a crow. And Stark has played his part perfectly, the court will be reassembling soon and you need to appear as though you haven't spent the last hour pushing the boundaries of your inhibitor.>>_

Tessa glared at the bird for a moment more and then struggled her way upright in her chair, quickly looking back to find its beady eye still on her. She watched the judge's chambers open and Strange and Stark saunter their way out, but still felt it watching her. It was driving her crazy.

"I'm being eye-fucked by a big ass crow," she hissed as Foggy and Matt sat back down at the table. That comment reasonably earned concerned glances from both of them.

Foggy turned his head to the windows. "Uh… what'cha talking about, doc?"

"That alarmingly large crow or magpie or raven, whatever it is, sitting there in the window, eyeing me like I'm the tastiest piece of carrion it ever did see."

Matt's brow crumpled as Foggy followed Tessa's eyeline.

"Heh. Is--uh, is that band on your head fastened a little too tight, Doctor B?"

"Are you sure there's a bird there, Tessa?"

The concern in Matt's voice made her look at him. "Of course I'm sure, I was looking right at it. And it was looking right… back…" Sure enough, when she turned back to the window, the bird was missing. "Okay… I'm losing it."

"A trial like this can be very stressful. Just try to relax… and maybe, don't look at the windows."

Tessa sunk onto the table under Foggy's supposed-to-be-comforting pat. "Yeah… me looking at the windows is the problem."

"Where's Mr. Pena?" Matt was antsy. Probably also not so thrilled about Tessa's apparently decaying mental state. "The courts should be reconvening immediately. Delays like this affect juries." He tapped off quickly.

_< <Umm… Doctor Strange? Can you hear me?>>_

_< <This is unwise, Theresa. Sometimes these communications are intercepted accidentally by third parties.>>_

_< <Okay, well… there really was a magpie, or whatever, in the window just now, right? Like, a real magpie staring at me?>>_

_< <I wouldn't say it was real, but it was there.>>_

_< <… … … What in the blessed fuck is that supposed to mean?>>_

_< <The concept of 'real' is so malleable.>>_

_< <That's not unhelpfully cryptic or anything.>> _

_< <This event is cosmically significant. I would be surprised if the ripples of its occurrence didn't attract attention.>>_

_< <Is it part of your Sorcerer's Oath to make things as convolutedly ambiguous as possible? Is that how you appease the forces of fate in the universe, or something, into letting you tinker with reality?>>_

_< <Goodbye, Theresa.>>_

_< <Strange? Doc? … You're infuriating_.>> Tessa sat up, her mind closing, to find the courtroom significantly louder than before. People were piling in again steadily, conversations filling the air. The seat to her right was empty, but Matt was there on her left now. He cleared his throat, turning her way as she straightened up.

"Are you… feeling alright, Tessa?"

"I'm not hallucinating, if that's what you're worried about _. It was a magic bird, apparently,_ " she just barely breathed.

"This is almost over. I promise." He didn't believe her. Lovely. "We're only calling one more witness. Then, closing remarks. Then, deliberation. Tomorrow we should know… the outcome."

"Yeah… _the outcome_." Lawyer-speak for 'your fate'. "So, our last witness… it wouldn't happen to be… uh, a crazy risk, would it?"

Matt graced the room with a lop-sided smirk. "Interesting, that… coming from you. I _… have complete faith_ in his ability to testify in your defense. He is, I am convinced, actually the perfect witness."

"Alright," Tessa heaved a deep sigh. "This should be good."

 

"The Defense calls Lt. Wilson to the stand."

Tessa craned her neck to watch Wade in his weird holographic mask approach the stand. He only kept it together until the instant he sat down. "This is the tiniest little box seat. Hi, mom. No, Mr. Booth, don't shoot! I'm just trying to enjoy the play!" 

Poor Mr. Pena paused in front of the stand, glancing around at Hayford as chuckles and mutters clattered through the courtroom. Wade waved at Tessa and Matt shifted from one foot to the other.

"Uh…"

"Proceed, Mr. Pena."

"Yes, Your Honor… Ahem, Lt. Wilson, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

Wade slapped his hand onto the Bible and solemnly nodded his head. "I do. The _whole_ truth."

Again the room rustled after that weird, heavily intoned comment, but Hayford kept quiet. Mr. Pena stepped away with the Bible and patted Matt's shoulder.

"Please state your full name for the court."

"Lt. Wade Winston Wilson, a.k.a. Deadpool, the Merc with the Mouth, your friendly neighborhood regenerating degenerate, and sometimes demented darling." He reached up and tugged on his face, it's image shivering and then degrading into a little film over a familiar red and black mask. "That was really my face, by the way, what it used to look like back in the day. I think."

The room erupted with noise. Among the curses and general outrage, Tessa heard the clicks of safeties being disengaged. In the meantime, Wade leaned back, swinging the now translucent film over his finger.

"And, that's the truth."

"Counselor, we discussed how I felt about theatrics."

"Your Honor!" Kendrick was on her feet, eyes bulging. "This is more than theatrics. That man is a wanted criminal, not to mention a known lunatic!"

"All _alleged_ ," Matt replied, barely audible over the pandemonium of the room. "And he has been subpoenaed to appear under strict procedure following the Accords. We kept his identity concealed merely to prevent panic for as long as possible." He pulled a folded packet of papers from his jacket and held them out in Kendrick's direction.

"Order! The Defense is in the right, I acknowledge this agreement, but I will have order! And no. more. theatrics." Hayford slammed his gavel a few times, but his heart wasn't in it anymore today.

"Thank you, Your Honor. Now… Lt. Wilson, how would you describe your relationship to Dr. Bisho?"

Wade tapped his chin a few times then sat forward. "Confusing. But… good."

"I'm sorry, you misunderstood me." Matt stepped up to the stand, folding his cane to buy time while the snickers died down. "How do you know Dr. Bisho?"

"Oh, I met her on a roof. She gave me tea and wasn't scared of me. This was before Lester shot her, of course. I tried to stop that, but I broke my legs and then the Hawkguy smashed my face in. I swallowed a tooth-- lemme tell you, that did not feel good coming out."

"So, you're friends?"

"Absoloodle. Pretty lady is one of my besties. That's what I call her, pretty lady. I couldn't remember her name at first, and then, by the time I could, it had just become habit, so I stuck with it. If it ain't broke…"

"You couldn't remember her name at first?"

"No. On that roof, there was a lot going on up here, if you know what I'm talking about." He tapped his head and then waited for Matt's response. "I tapped my head."

"Ah. I can't say that I do know what you mean. Could you explain?"

"Oh, the yellow boxes. You can't hear them can you? Yeah, well-- oh and the white ones, yeah. I've got other voices up here. They take up a lot of my attention."

"So, you hear voices. Anything else?"

"For sure. The Deadpool Museum, obviously--"

"Which is to say what, Lieutenant?"

"That would be the metaphor for my memory, Mr. Murdock."

Matt paused for a moment at the stark change in Deadpool's demeanor. "Yes, of course. Continue."

"The Deadpool Museum is in disrepair. Lemme tell ya. Before the pretty lady over there, they wouldn't have let homeless people sleep in it. Then she helped, after she died. Glued some stuff back together, dusted others. I got back _Wild Things_."

"Correct me if I'm wrong. Dr. Bisho helped you heal your fractured memory."

"Exactamundo."

"Now, do you recall what fractured your memory?"

"Uh, yeah… never forget that bit. Is that irony? I think it is."

"And what was the cause?"

"Government sponsored experiments." He nodded at the gasps. "I know! Shocking, isn't it? But, don't worry, I'm Canadian. Sometimes."

"Lieutenant. These experiments, do you remember any agency or purpose associated with them?"

"Yes and no. There are a lot of answers to that up here. Can't always tell which is which, but I _do_ know that they're government because of their Matrix suits."

Matt turned around and pulled a remote from his pocket. "You're referring to the Weapon X Agents employed in the mid-90's to find a supersoldier alternative to Dr. Erskine's formula and Dr. Banner's failed gamma trials?"

Wade turned and looked at the screen with everyone else. "Uh… yeah. That's them. And that slimy rat pellet is Dr. Killebrew! What a dick."

"Mm. And before you were recruited by the project you were in the Special Forces?"

"That's one version of it."

"It's the real one, Lt. Wilson. We have the enlistment forms right here."

"Oh…" Wade considered the screen for a moment and the shrugged. "Yeah, you're right. I remember now. It's been fuzzy lately, since I've been going without my treatments."

"Your treatments?"

"Oh, yeah… Pretty lady met with me on the reg to keep everything straight up here. Then I had to stop, 'cuz the whole superpower family feud."

"You mean when you allegedly resumed domestic terrorist actions for the first time in over a year?"

"The food trucks? That was--"

"Please do not incriminate yourself on the stand, Lt. Wilson."

"I thought I was immune. Huh… what's the point of _Law and Order_ , then? Well, yeah, _allegedly_."

"But, during your time under Dr. Bisho's care, you were notably absent from world news. Is that true?"

"Yeah… you see, I have this kid now, she needs stuff. I'm still a merc, you know? But, I do it shiny, right? For my kid. When… when I remember that I'm supposed to be Arm and Hammer."

"You discovered you were a father and you cleaned up your act? When you could remember to do so?"

"I just said that. Yeah."

"And you were able to remember to do so when?"

Deadpool sighed and leaned forward. "You're like my echo, Shades. You sure you're not the one with the scrambled eggs?"

"Please answer the question, Lieutenant."

"Fine. I found out about the kid a few weeks before I met the pretty lady. Some days I did what I was supposed to, others… you ever seen The Hangover? Then, the pretty lady started helping me and I saw my kid more, made her smile more. Haven't seen her in a while… I think."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Matt turned away and tapped back towards their bench, pausing half way there. "One last possibly repetitive question: who, of the parties involved in your mental state, would you deem a bad influence on your person and who a good influence?"

A snort, "real repetitive. That'd be in the bad corner, the gov't goons, and in the good corner, my girl, pretty lady. I know I'm a piece of work… and it makes my brain itch being all self-aware like this, but… I liked who I was better when she was helping me remember. Don't get me wrong, it's usually more fun when I'm crackerjacks, but… the self-hatred is less putrid when I've got my dominoes in order." He turned to the side, and started nodding. "No, I know, I know… shut it. Also… she keeps continuity nice and tight."

Matt cleared his throat. "No further questions, Your Honor."

"Kendrick."

"Lieutenant Wilson--or should I address you as Deadpool?"

He leaned forward over the stand. "You can call me whatever you want, Ms. Scary Fed."

"Mm. I believe it is an affront to the young men and women serving this country to continue this charade that you were ever an honorable member of the military, so we'll stick with Deadpool, shall we?"

"Hey… whatever narrative makes you comfiest at night." He shrugged and then suddenly reached for his neck. "Hey? Wanna see what could happen to any of those shiny grunts if they decide to do what their country asks? If they're gung ho for the above and beyond?"

"I… I don't-- oh!"

Wade yanked the mask from his face. "Ta-Da!! Behold. The Kraken!"

"Mr.-- D--Deadpool. Please, contain yourself."

"You don't like the face of blind obedience? Yeah… me neither. It's why I wear this rad mask. I mean, besides the fact that it's a rad mask… Man, they really liked Strange's reveal better. I gotta learn me some magic."

Kendrick dropped her hand from her face as Wade pulled his mask back on. She paced for a second, wiping her hands against her legs. "You're clearly unwell, Deadpool. How can you be sure that what you're experiencing is real?"

"An excellent question. I rely on the white box to keep things on the level."

"A--and… the white box? Ah, Your Honor, this witness is barely cogent. Must we--"

"Outstanding circumstances, counselor. He has been vetted and approved by the Accords committee. Somehow. Please proceed or dismiss the witness."

"Yes, Your Honor… Deadpool, what can you recall of your experience of the defendant's powers?"

"Feather dusters."

"Feather dusters? Is that a metaphor?"

"Tickling like feather dusters."

"You are referring to the physical experience of her powers?"

"I thought it'd be like someone putting a finger in my head and wriggling it around, but it wasn't… it felt like a tickly feather. I kinda liked it."

Kendrick's face dropped. "No negative effects?"

"Lady, I'm a blistering hot mess. I'm the poster boy for mental health awareness. I've known torture backwards and forwards, medical side effects that literally melted my face off. Pretty lady has zero negative effects. … Except for that time I got really wicked bad gas after she bought me this falafel thing. That was bad for everyone."

"Oh, for--" Kendrick muttered something under her breath. "And during your return to terrorist activities--"

"Alleged!" Wade shook a finger at her. "I learned a word today."

"… During the time of your _alleged_ terrorist activities you were operating under the defendant's influence, were you not?"

"Sheesh, you're as bad a listener as the other guy. No. That sort of thing _allegedly_ started after I wasn't able to visit the pretty lady anymore. You _could_ say it was under the oversight committee's influence. It's really incredible what can go unnoticed when people are worried about a sizzling food truck."

"If the defendant's treatments were an analog to drug therapy, one could make the argument that your _alleged_ actions were a form of withdrawal."

"Objection, Your Honor. The Prosecutor hasn't asked a question."

Kendrick exhaled heavily. "Can you say with any degree of certainty, Deadpool, that your erratic actions are not a result of the defendant's influence."

"Well… when I'm certain about things they usually involve explosions and blood… but, uh… well, I was nutty as a fruit cake _before_ I met her… so… yes. I'm as certain as I can be. That's logic, right?"

"So, when she tampered with your mind, there is no chance she removed important pieces of information? Things that you might have wanted or needed?"

"If she had, I wouldn't remember, right?"

"Precisely."

"Objection, Your Honor! Prosecution is--"

"I know what Kendrick is doing, counselor. If the People do not have a salient, non-conjectural line of questioning to pursue, this court is more than ready to proceed to closing arguments."

Kendrick dropped her hands. "No further questions, Your Honor. … An inadmissible witness anyways."

"The jury will not acknowledge Kendrick's final remark," Hayford barked. "Mr. Pena, clear the stand."

Deadpool stood from the witness stand and took a bow. "Thank you, thank you. Good night and good luck!" He crowed, before being dragged from the courtroom. "Oi! If you wanna get handsy like that, I require payment upfront! I'm a lady!"

Tessa smiled weakly as Wade skipped past her, trying not to conjure just what was going to happen once the doors closed behind him and the now fifteen armed guards escorting him out. "Uh… not to seem unappreciative or… or, um… you know, like I don't trust you, but… I have this sick feeling that Deadpool may have just tanked any credibility I had."

"Where in the world would you get the impression that a comment like that was indicative of a lack of trust?" Matt was wearing a confidence on his face that Tessa hasn't seen for a while. "Foggy, just how pale is Kendrick?"

"Like she's seen a ghost, Matty."

He turned back to Tessa, dimple throwing shadows on his cheek. "I would bet you're feeling better than the Prosecution right now. And they give their argument first."

"Yeah… you--you're right. How can I argue with…" A flutter of movement caught Tessa's eye, darkness against the yellow-orange light of the beginning of sunset. "… with that?" The goddamn magpie was back. And again, she looked it in the eye and it looked right back.

_< <Alright, you giant, creepy motherfucker… what are you?>>_

_< <Such language.>>_

If Tessa hadn't been sunk into her own head, reaching out along the same pathways she'd spoken to Strange on earlier, she would have jumped out of her chair. << _Shitting Christ! >>_

_< <Graphic. But, what did you expect? You came knocking, I answered.>>_

Tessa was reeling, back-peddling metaphysically. Unfortunately, metaphysically she didn't have any mass, so she wasn't exactly moving away from the words in her head. << _I really should have figured out exactly how this brain phone works before I went around making calls to strange birds. >>_

_< <Would have been wise, but where's the fun in that?>>_

Just like with Dr. Strange, Tessa didn't so much hear its words as feel them. Also just like with Dr. Strange, there was nothing behind the words, no memories, like they were cloaked from her. This really was a magic bird. Unlike with Strange, however, Tessa couldn't pin down a particular feeling, no signature timbre like his words had. The bird's responses just ebbed and flowed into her head, a little different each time. All that considered, Tessa wasn't lost at sea, wasn't speaking to something utterly strange. There was a string of the known there, weak and translucent, blocked at its source, but Tessa was somehow connected to this creature. << _I don't know you personally, but you're not_ un _familiar to me. >>_

 _< <Indeed. I could be vastly more _familiar _if you should choose. >>_

Even in her non-corporeal metaphysical gob of brain power form, Tessa felt a chill down her spine. << _Eh… maybe not, creepy bird. >>_

_< <We shall see.>>_

_< <Yeah… about that… why are you stalking me?>>_

_< <Stalking. A curious choice of word. You bethink yourself my prey?>>_

_< <Well… yeah… I _bethink _that. Especially when you phrase it like that. You've had the crazy eye on me. >>_

The feeling of laughter swelled in Tessa's mind. << _You are amusing. Such spirit. >> _

_< <Uh-huh, super-spirited… but, seriously… why are you watching me?>>_

_< <I've answered that query already: you are amusing.>>_

_< <And you are creepy… and lying, I think.>>_

_< <Hm-mm. And what answer would you prefer? Your fate is no small matter? I delight in watching squabbles of this magnitude? Stephen Strange is my intimate companion? Nothing else is on television? Choose whichever pleases you best.>>_

_< <That… that answers nothing. Of course. Why are you a bird?>>_

_< <Why are you a human?>>_

_< <Because I… that's just what I am.>>_

_< <Is it? Hmm. You're thinking rather small for a cosmic entity, are you not? Personally, I'd aim bigger, say… dragons… or, sentient trees.>>_

_< <What? What are you talking abou--Who are you?>>_

_< <A creepy bird. Apparently.>>_

_< <No. You're someone. I can feel it just behind whatever… block you've put up. Who are you?>>_

_< <An observer, here for the show. Speaking of which… you're causing us to miss something vital. Off you go, _human _, attend to this drama. You're name's in the title, after all… >>_

Deep in her gut Tessa felt a yank and then the falling sensation of drifting off to sleep as she was forcibly reinstalled in her own mind. Blinking a few times, she found the bird was gone and so was the yellow-orange light of early sunset. She had been tuned out longer than that conversation had felt like it'd lasted. The room was swathed in a red-pink glow and Matt was addressing the jury.

"…without evidence, this woman cannot be martyred for simply being who she was _made_ to be. Imagine prosecuting someone born into money--perhaps even one among you, or your peer--imagine someone from old money being charged, tried, and found guilty of financial crimes the moment they were discovered to be moneyed. There, hypothetical or not, is no telling how they would apply those funds, to supply Doctors Without Borders or terrorists. There would be--there _is_ no way to say for certain their future actions, only that they have the capacity for both sorts. The prosecution has brought up cybersecurity as a helpful analog; the government monitors the activity of its citizens to protect them. The comparison works, sure, for our case. Say, our moneyed individual was suspected of foul play. Their financial records are then subpoenaed, if and only if there is an actionable warrant for financial felony or misdemeanor. Their access to funds is not preemptively restricted. _Our_ digital access is, presumably, not preemptively restricted. That would be a violation of the basic liberties this nation upholds.

"The same should be said of Dr. Bisho. If we draw the parallel, Dr. Bisho keeps detailed financial records. Her second skin, the dampening suit that she wore of her own volition for months even before any agency was made aware of her existence, it kept such records. You've seen them here, reams of data. We know what sort of applications of her electro-chemical manipulation she exercised and where and when. These, each and every one that Dr. Banner identified as possibly exopathic--that is, as manipulating memories--can be matched to a witness's testimony about _regaining_ memory faculties. If Dr. Bisho engaged only in assistive memory manipulation prior to being actively monitored by our government, it bears to reason that, while under public scrutiny, she will not engage in detrimental applications of her abilities.

"The prosecution, however, is not content with this assurance. They are concerned about what they call her 'invasive' passive abilities and the threat they pose to national security. We simply ask: has anyone, the state in particular, experienced any unaccounted-for security lapses? Any intelligence leaks that cannot be attributed to internal negligence? The answer is 'no.' No. Dr. Bisho is a private citizen who, evidenced by the use of her second skin which dampens the invasion of memories upon her consciousness, is not interested in knowing everyone's secrets or capitalizing on them. If this is truly a serious concern of the state, then perhaps they should revise their NSA's jurisdiction. Such agents hold nearly the same power of insight into citizen's lives and with more resources at their disposal to have any effect with it. It's true, those agents are licensed, employed by the government and monitored, held accountable. But they chose to be there. And they can choose to leave. Dr. Bisho cannot. Her access is not a workstation, as easily removed as given; it's her brain, her person.

"We all know where this case is heading… We are at a pivotal moment for our world and its enhanced population. This case will set the precedent for those to follow, those reactionary persecutions of people with abilities we don't understand and therefore fear. We all know that the government wants to regulate Dr. Bisho, to place her under constant surveillance and to limit her rights and liberty in order to assuage the current feeling of anxiety about her _potential_ for abusing her abilities. But, punishment must answer a crime, not preempt it. Absolute preventative measures are not the answer, or are we again to see a Cold War? It is fair to hold these people liable for abilities, just as we would anyone in possession of powerful devices, automotive drivers for instance, but it is her right as a citizen of this nation to live as she would unimpeded and be punished for abusing her extraordinary power only once she has done so and has been proven to have done so _beyond a shadow of a doubt_. Can we say today that she has done so? No.

"The prosecution urged you to consider the incident with ex-Senator Palmer earlier this month. It is true that Dr. Bisho altered his mnemonic state, she restored it, in fact, and has openly admitted as much. She did not, however, force Mr. Palmer to act upon his regained memories. The disclosure of secure intelligence was by his volition alone, not Dr. Bisho's. She is at fault only so far as she restored his access to information previously restricted to him. We know for a fact that she is not telepathic, she could not have forced him to slip and spill secrets. She was trying to help. That is what she has done for months, what she intends to do. She helps. Are we to punish her for trying to help? Detain her for caretaking our memories? The answer is obvious. It is up to you, members of the jury, to decide to follow its logical path instead of that of fear."

Matt paused in front of the jury stand, head ducked for a moment, and then patted the banister. "Thank you. Your Honor?"

"As much as I would like to wind this case up, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it seems your deliberation must wait a moment or so."

Tessa turned to follow the judge's line of sight and found a small entourage of men in suits and their body guards making their way to the bench. Matt sat down, tense and frowning, just before the group reached Hayford. Their conversation was quiet and guarded, but Tessa could tell it wasn't going her way. Matt's face made that explicit.

"Shit," he hissed, just before the group stepped a few paces back and looked her way. The hair on the back of Tessa's neck stood on end.

"What happen--"

"Well then," Hayford sounded petulant. Standing, he waved at the gallery and then stepped down. "Clear the gallery. Escort the jury out. This trial is no longer under my jurisdiction."

"Ah, dammit…" Stark's voice rang out to Tessa underneath all the chatter erupting around them. "I was worried this was coming."

"And just what is 'this,' Stark?"

It wasn't Stark but Vision who answered Jess. "Those are representatives of the UN delegation assigned to oversee the enforcement of the Sokovia Accords. They are here to intercede and impose instead the committee's decision in regards to Dr. Bisho's situation in the global community."

"And just what decision is that?"

"How is that even legal?"

"I imagine we will discover the answer to both questions presently."

"No, _we_ won't," Stark grumbled as Tessa noticed several heavily armed guards heading her way, then passing her. "Damn."

Tessa whipped around immediately, straining against her cuffs to reach out towards them. "Please! Please let them stay! Please! I didn't get to say goodbye." Her pleas had no effect on the guards, who lined up gun to gun, and began herding a whole bevy of bona fide superheroes out of the room. They all went peacefully, stink eyes not included, but Tessa was glad for that. They really could only afford one of them to be persecuted at a time.

"Not that this even appears to be constitutional, but Dr. Theresa Bisho, you are hereby surrendered from my care and custody to the Senate Joint Committee on Superhuman Affairs. You are being detained to appear before said joint committee in answer to the threats you pose to our living constitution and nation. I will make sure the Supreme Court Justices are fully aware of the _violations_ occurring here. Godspeed, Dr. Bisho." The Honorable Judge Hayford tossed his gavel onto the bench and, in a billow of snapping robes, stormed into his chambers, door slamming shut behind him.

"M-Matt… what am I--"

"You're entitled to an attorney. You only have to ask for us, Tessa. They can't deny you representation."

Tessa struggled as the armed escort grabbed her shoulders. She couldn't help it, panic was flooding through her. "I want my attorneys! I want Nelson and Murdock with me!"

She couldn't see behind her as they dragged her from the courthouse, but she thought she could feel Matt and Foggy's presence several dozen yards behind her. She hoped.


	14. Here There Be Shit Shows

Washington D.C. still hadn't recovered from the whole SHIELD is HYDRA, protection agency meltdown fiasco. The Potomac was still battle-scarred and every person radiated fear and anger who caught sight of Tessa being escorted from her helicopter to the big, black, SUV to the Senate House.

"By law, I have the right to have my attorneys present."

Commando Man Number Seven did not respond to Tessa's eight hundredth repetition of that claim. It was beginning to seem that maybe she no longer had rights. If that was the case, then maybe it was time that she no longer played by their rules.

"By law, I have the right to have my attorneys present!" She shouted one more time as the door to the newest containment area closed.

This was basically a closet. They'd cuffed her in place, and not just her hands and feet. Her whole body was secured to the wall and bench in a series of really intense metal bands. Apparently, they didn't realize one, that she was not super strong, and two, that her physical form was not restricted by giant metal bands. But, she couldn't show that hand unless she was fully prepared to go full fugitive. Was she ready? No. Not really. There was still a chance they would honor her rights, once she was no longer in this closet.

Across the small space she could make out dimly worn paint on the wall. It read 'Property of the A.T.C.U'. Tessa had heard of that before, the alien threat containment unit. They'd been rounding up the cocoon people. She wasn't sure what had been happening to the cocoon people. _This is bad news. What did the creepy bird mean with that human comment? Am I really not human anymore? Can they consider me an alien now? Will I be treated like the cocoon people?_

_< <Calm down, Theresa. You will be released shortly.>>_

_< <Jeez, doc… Scared the hell out of me. So, uh… you know the future now?>>_

_< <Not at all. I only saw them heading your way as I passed by.>>_ In the corner of her eye, Tessa caught sight of a low glow. Beside her now sat a translucent Dr. Strange, tea cup in hand. << _I was made aware of the fact that you had been detained. I decided to investigate. Just in case extraordinary measures were needed. >>_

"Wh--"

_< <Shh. Shh. They're monitoring this… room. Thought-speak only.>>_

_< <They can't detect you?>>_

_< <I am manifest to whom I please.>>_

_< <Okay… brain phone only. Are extraordinary measures needed, Ghost-Strange?>>_

_< <It would seem their aggressive approach was all shock and awe, as usual for this body. They mean to escort you to a committee hearing now. I am in attendance, actually, as are the Vision, Stark and Ms. Romanova. Your lawyers are also present, but being held for a briefing about procedure, they are only allowed to be present to advise you. You will be speaking for yourself.>>_

_< <Oh, lovely. That's sure to go well.>>_

_< <Do not undersell yourself, Theresa. You are more than capable. Besides, I have a… _feeling _that this hearing will not so much be a discussion, but a list of directives. >> _

_< <So, I'm not on trial here, I'm being sentenced.>>_

_< <I do believe so, yes.>>_

_< <Well, isn't that just fantastic?>>_

_< <There are plans in place if the decisions of this body are found wanting, Theresa. Do try to relax. Tea?>>_

_< <No, I'm good on soul-tea. Thanks.>>_

_< <Your loss. It's quite restorative.>>_

_< <… So… what now, Strange?>>_

_< <Now? Oh, since you are not enjoying my company, I suppose you continue waiting, I finish my tea and take my leave of you. And give you a word of advice: never speak to the magpie. Do not encourage it, for your own sake.>>_

_< <Who is the magpie?>>_

Strange's eyes, ghostly silver, skated over the rim of his cup at her. << _On second thought, don't even think about the magpie. It is nothing but trouble. >>_

_< <Sheesh, Strange… you couldn't cut me a little slack? You know I don't forget things, right? The curiosity's going to drive me up a wall.>> _

_< <It is a magpie that is not a magpie. That is all you can know. The name has power, I would not bring its owner down upon you.>> _

_< <As usual, you leave something wanting in terms of an explanation.>>_ Tessa rolled her eyes, settling further back into her full-body cuff as Dr. Strange's projection faded out of sight. Now, to wait. And not think about that stupid bird. Luckily for Tessa, footsteps were tramping her way. The squad sent to gather her that Strange mentioned. They had taken their sweet time.

"Sit back, Ms. Bisho. We're disengaging your restraints."

Tessa rested her head against the wall with a sigh. "I have a few doctorates, but yeah, sure… Ms. is just fine. Fits right in with the rest of this… _preferential_ treatment."

"If you'll stand, and put your hands behind your head."

"Oh… yeah, sure… so, we're just switching to a more mobile bondage solution? Super." She squinted up at the silhouettes stepping into her small closet. "Do you all realize those power blocking helmets they put you in make you look like Stormtroopers? Not really the imagery you want to foster with new police action like this. Nobody actually likes The Empire. Except maybe Nazis."

There was a snort over the various clicks and surges of power in her new cuffs. "You know, Dr. Beesh? I said almost the exact same thing, but I made the mistake of using the ydra-hay word and… well, let's just say it's a good thing I no longer rely on military contracts. Okay, Hans and Franz, move aside. Supertech coming through… and then you can finally take off those ridiculous fishbowls."

"Stark. What a… surprise."

The small room suddenly glowed with a pair of what looked to be repulsor-powered electrode pads. "That hurts, Tess, hurts me deep in my shriveled corporation-corrupted heart."

"No," Tessa scoffed, trying to keep the shock from her voice as an influx of Stark-centric memories hit her. "I'm just… surprised that they let you handle me."

"Well… I'm the bleeding edge of everything, Bichon. Ain't nobody but me can ensure you're locked down. Especially with Banner MIA." He collapsed Tessa's tron-headband and tucked it into his jacket before aligning the two repulsor pads on either side of her eyes. They locked into place with a hum and Stark stepped back, phone in hand. "A few diagnostics and you should be high-ranking-personnel friendly."

"Huh. Required a security upgrade before they put me in a room full of Senators? Talk about paranoid. Over-cautious, even. Smells like dirty laundry."

"Yeah, well… the big wigs are still airing things out after Widow took that giant dump all over the internet. I imagine they want their new passwords and keys to stay relevant for a little while longer." Stark tapped his phone to the nearest electrode and Tessa's world stuttered, coming back in a moment later utterly empty. "Alright, neural containment engaged, we're good to go. Dr. Bisho is alone in her head for exactly 90 minutes, that's all the world memory-net can sustain, though. We'll have to let her ping after that or risk forgetting why we're here."

"You heard Stark. Move her."

Tessa dug her heels in as a set of hands grabbed her arms. " _She_ may be neurally contained, but _she_ is not brain dead. I can move myself, that is, if I still have the right to."

"Of course, ma'am. This way, please." Stormtrooper A was surprisingly young underneath his completely ineffectual helmet. Just six months into service, if the info she picked up before Stark numbed her head was accurate. They'd put the noobs on her detail to ensure no secrets were leaked.

 _< <Methinks the big brother doth protest too much_.>> Tessa sighed to herself.

 _< <You aren't wrong.>> _Strange sighed right back. <<' _Strip search' doesn't do justice to the inspection they served Ms. Romanova and Stark upon entering this place, and you will soon see the absurd contraption they've locked my hands in, my new glamorous headgear. Their utter lack of understanding of anything beyond the mundane would be laughable if it weren't so dangerous. >>_

_< <That was… that was just an internal observation… to myself, but sure, chime on in. Uh… So… you're really chatty today, doc. Something on your mind?>>_

_||I blather when I'm out of sorts. Difficult to imagine, I know, but, on this plane, you alone share my understanding of the gravity of this situation. Perhaps I overtax your patience with my fretting prattle. My deepest apologies, Theresa. Even the Sorcerer Supreme requires assurance time and again, I will seek it elsewhere. >>_

_< <Don't sweat it, Strange. You used to scare the snark right outta me. It's reassuring to find out you're really just a person under all that power and pretention. You and Stark share more than taste in facial hair, I guess.>>_

_< <Charming, Theresa. Absolutely charming.>>_

_< <Sorry. I guess you could say I'm not exactly at my best right now, personal liberties and whatnot on the line.>>_

_< <And the fate of mankind's collective consciousness.>>_

_< <Yeah, that too_.>> Tessa made eye contact with Strange as she was escorted into the committee's hearing proper, his eyes steely and cold as usual. Sure enough, he was fitted out with a matching Stark inhibitor set, which obviously had no effect on magic. It was enough, though, that it made the illustrious and dignified Dr. Strange look ridiculous. 

_< <I know you're laughing. You should see yourself.>>_

_< <Yeah, but I'm used to being Frankenstein's smallest monster. This is a whole new and, let me say, hilarious look for you. It reminds me of some steampunk gimp suit. Amazing.>> _Tessa watched his face fall a little further and stifled more giggles. This day may have been one of her worst yet, but she had that one visual to cherish for a good long while.

"Tessa." And there was that, too.

"Oh, thank god, they let you two in." She couldn't run or anything, or really move much more than a couple inches in front of her escorts, but she did lean heavily in the direction of Matt and Foggy as they rushed over to her.

"'Let us in' doesn't really even begin to describe the security procedures here, but yes. We've been allowed to attend your hearing."

"And we'll make sure you're allowed every right the constitution guarantees you. This may not be a court of law, but we're still in the U.S. and constitutional law still stands."

"Lucky for you," Foggy slapped a hand over Matt's shoulder, "one of us here passed that class with flying colors. And the other… pulled through."

For all Foggy's bright-faced bluster, Matt looked grim. He forced a small grin and nodded along. "We'll be right beside you the whole time."

"Speaking of, fellas, can't you deposit us somewhere with our client? We've been shuffling around in limbo for a while and that's, uh… not the best situation for my partner here. _He bumps into things… and sometimes important people._ "

Stormtrooper A was not only surprisingly young, he was also naïve and still apparently well-intentioned. "Oh--uh… yes. Yes, certainly, I'll--I have orders--I'll just, I guess… Sure, follow us. Follow with us. Please. Lem! Let--let the lawyer… you know."

The guard's hand dropped from Matt's shoulder, allowing him to gently grab hold of Tessa's elbow. A flash of invasive sensations greeted her among the heavy stink of anxiety. Natasha and Stark hadn't been the only ones with the pleasure of experiencing the thoroughness of a federal body cavity search. That overshare hadn't been Matt's intention though, it seemed. Once Tessa was properly secured in her seat, he simply seemed determined to remain close.

"Are you okay? What did they do to you?"

"Nothing, not like the prostate exams you two received," Tessa whispered back while the rest of the room milled into place. "Just some new gear courtesy Stark. I'm currently not receiving… anything, except by touch. Or brain phone."

Matt's jaw tensed. "We were…"

"Yeah, worried. I know. It wasn't vacation but they didn't torture me or anything. Just left me alone in a small dark box-- okay, so some light torture, but nothing I can't handle."

"Next time… We won't let them haul you off again like that." His words were clipped, but without the hard edge from before, and his shoulders had dropped. He was relaxing. "I'm sorry--"

"For once, Matt, this was completely and undeniably out of your guilt-complex-haunted hands. And… promise me, Murdock--promise me, when the sentence falls down on my head from on high in here, you won't take it upon yourself to make it your problem. Okay? I don't want anyone else, especially not you and Foggy and Karen, to be shit on by this disaster. It would just… think of how you would feel in my place, okay? Don't put that on my conscience too."

He sucked on his teeth for a moment, brow twitching with conflict. "I promise. But--"

"No 'buts', Murdock. For fuck's sake--"

"Thank you for all appearing today. Let's call to order the first official hearing of the Joint Congressional Committee on Superhero Affairs deciding Dr. Theresa Beth Bisho's national and international standing as an independent global-threat level agent." The Speaker of this committee was vaguely familiar, someone Tessa had seen in the news of late but never paid much attention to. She was regretting that at the moment. And also not having her absolute memory reserves at her disposal. It was becoming clear she had begun subconsciously relying on that source more than she had realized.

"The issue today is not determining Dr. Bisho, codename Mnemosyne's threat level, since this has been predetermined and documented, but rather how the United States Government will address the imminent and constant threat she poses. Fortunately, with the combined knowledge and resources of our committees, we have reached a resolution. Senator Regenstein?"

An older woman pulled the microphone closer to her face and cleared her throat. "The entity known as Mnemosyne is objectively a threat to the constitution we as a governing body uphold, on both a private and national level. For this reason, the Joint Congressional Committee on Superhero Affairs has been convened and has stepped in to oversee the adjudication of trial procedures in Dr. Bisho's case, and, from here on out, will exercise this same oversight in any criminal or civil case concerning enhanced persons who threaten our nation. Private individuals have been convened alongside our body, because, as a committee, we know that the sum of individual parts is not sufficient to enforce the decision at which we have arrived. As a result, private individuals, also under our jurisdiction as a superhuman managing entity, will be drafted into the service of maintaining Dr. Bisho's sentence."

At a nod, a line of official-looking people, stiff suits, earpieces and all, stepped up from the sidelines and approached the seats around Tessa. They had tablets in hand.

"The following individuals will agree, under oath and binding contract, to supervise the probation measures detailed in this hearing under penalty of similar sentencing. Anthony Stark, our contract will persist and you will fit Dr. Bisho with the proper monitoring and restrictive devices at this body's discretion. The synthetic human known as Vision, you will similarly uphold your contract, assisting and maintaining the equipment Mr. Stark engineers. You are not to engage in independent work on Dr. Bisho or her devices. Natasha Romanoff, you will provide intelligence and security regarding Dr. Bisho and act as her field handler when required. Finally, Dr. Stephen Strange. This body understands that you are a private citizen, uninvolved as of yet with superhuman affairs-- insofar as we have proof. However, your apparent expertise in the matter of Mnemosyne has proved invaluable in determining her qualities and capabilities. In exchange for no further investigation into your involvement, we ask that you also monitor and assist Stark, Vision, and Romanoff in maintaining probationary measures on Dr. Bisho. Thumbprints and signatures upon your agreement."

_< <Unbelievable. Extorting me…>>_

_< <Careful, doc. Your disgust is showing.>>_ Tessa looked past Strange's scowl to find Vision in a similar rig, attempting to negotiate the tablet in front of him with his hands bound.

"With contracts established, we may now turn to you, Dr. Bisho. Your sentence will be as follows--"

"Don't I get to speak for myself?"

The woman barely paused at Tessa's outburst. "This body has found you to be an imminent and ubiquitous threat to national safety and, as such, within the laws of this nation, may issue whatever measures necessary to ensure the neutralization of that threat at our discretion. Our discretion has determined that, due to your intrinsically corruptive effect on evidence, you will be placed under probationary monitoring for the foreseeable future and, in anticipation of the measures to be administered in such cases according to the Accords, will be restricted in the application of your abilities to a set time and place outlined in the probation packet now in your lawyers' possession."

Foggy accepted an enormous binder at the senator's words, befuddlement written all over his face.

"A new inhibitive suit will be manufactured by Mr. Stark, which you will wear at all times except for scheduled self and equipment maintenance times, also in the probation packet. This suit will monitor your activity as before as well as restrict your ambient abilities to a passive maintenance of the neural net that sustains human memory. Apparently. The body recognizes your philanthropic tendencies, Dr. Bisho, and we are, by no means, in the business of quashing possible assets to humanity. Therefore, while your active manipulative abilities will be inhibited by the suit in public, you will be allowed to offer memory-restorative services at a practice or clinic of your choosing, at a mutually agreed upon location of no more than 500 square feet and between the hours of eight a.m. and five p.m., outside of which times and space any application of your active abilities will be considered an assault on national security and your probation will be converted into immediate detention in a facility of our choosing. You are to maintain a productive utilization of your skills within the confines of the law until there is established an acceptable governing body to which you may directly answer. Should your skills be required for national or united international security, you will submit to answering summons for that request, but will retain the right to refuse should you find the application morally, ethically, or legally questionable, at which point you will seek advice from a member of this convened body and its officers. Outside of these restrictions, you are on extended and permanent house arrest. A perimeter and designated routes to cleared destinations outside that area will be detailed in the packet and amended upon the assignment of a workspace, the violation of which will result in appropriate penalties according to the infraction. You are here forth a free woman according to these guidelines and will be released to the parties responsible for your probationary monitoring if you agree to these terms. Do you so agree, Dr. Theresa Bisho?" 

Tessa floundered under the imperious stares of all the congresspersons suddenly directed down at her. "I--I do… agree."

"Then, we are in accord and this hearing is ended. Guards you may escort Dr. Bisho and her probationers to the appropriate transport. They are free to go."

 

THREE HOURS, FOUR SPRINTS TO THE BATHROOM TO VOMIT, AND FIVE NEAT WHISKEYS LATER

"No, it's airtight. This is it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it." Foggy tossed aside the binder, its weight causing the glass of the coffee table in front of him to shiver. "They had a serious professional buckle that beast down."

"A whole team of serious professionals, I would warrant." Matt also set aside his binder, though more gently as it was sizably larger.

"Professionals with no regard for disabilities," Foggy scoffed.

"Yes, well… Mr. Stark was kind enough to have my copy printed. And remarkably quickly, too."

"He's being… unsettlingly accommodating with this whole thing," Tessa mumbled, after spitting yet another gulp of mouthwash down the drain. "I mean… he didn't need to put us up in this suite or whatever it is while we wait."

"I'm not complaining."

"No, you wouldn't, Fog. The whiskey's worth more than our combined lives."

"And he's got working A/C."

"That too."

Tessa swished one more time for good measure and then dropped onto the couch beside them. "So… I'm kinda in shock here, bear with me. So… that's it? It's really done? No more trial? This is what's happening?"

"Yes, it is. I mean, we could foment internal strife among governing bodies, but beyond pitting the Supreme Court against Congress, there's nothing to do. Do you want us to go barking up that tree? We could. It might even be fun."

"You're drunk, Foggy."

"Nah… just, you know, got nothing left to scare me." He laughed weakly and then glanced over at Tessa. "So? What's the final word?"

"Huh?" She looked up quickly, trying to keep her hands from shaking. "What? Oh, no. No, I don't want you trying to sic the Supreme Court on Congress… No, that would be all kinds of bad. I'm just trying to process what all this means."

"I know, Tessa. It's not the best case scenario, but--"

"Not the best case scenario?" The crazy in her voice was audible even to Tessa, but there was not stopping it now. Like the vomit. "It's so obviously not the best case scenario, but it's also way, way, _way_ far away from the worse! I'm… I'm practically… this is… I didn't have to-- I'm okay with this, guys. If this is what it really is."

"If 'this' is the extremely restrictive procedure of house arrest specially tailored to be a pain in your ass on the daily, then sure. This is what it really is. You’re a government asset now and they've got you on a serious leash."

Tessa chewed on her lip. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not happy about being a potential attack dog, but… I didn't have to sacrifice… I get to keep my life, more or less. I'm… That's good enough for me, for now."

Silence sat between them as the tremors left Tessa's hands. Matt and Foggy exchanged a couple of completely obvious coughs but didn't argue. Finally, Matt reached out for his glass and threw back the rest of its contents.

"Well, if you're happy, we're happy. Case closed. Time to celebrate. When we're done here, drinks are on us. Invite your… special friends." He stood and tapped off, leaving Tessa to fight the shakes and Foggy to continue sipping the multi-thousand dollar liquor.

_< <It appears that all's well that ends well. It is over, isn't it?>>_

Still shaking so hard she couldn't hold a glass, Tessa whipped around to the window. She was _not_ thinking about the bird. Definitely not thinking about the bird.

_< <Quite a little paradox the supremest of fancy pants put you in, is it not? Not thinking about something involves thinking of that something. Elsewise, how would you focus on not focusing on it? >>_

With her eyes shut, she laid down on the couch and allowed herself to remember just how nauseous she was. Keeping the bile in place would distract her surely.

_< <Oh, come now. I'm harmless. Just a creepy bird, visiting to see how the manifestation of memory is faring. So much at stake, it gives cause for concern, you know. Can't have our guardian of days past being summarily snuffed out. Such a pretty candle, with an important flame.>>_

_< <Strange. Strange, if you can hear me, I have a question for you_.>>  Distractions in the real world weren't working. Time to block the line with another call. << _It's not particularly pressing, but I would appreciate you answering. >> _

_< <What is it, Theresa? I am still… Today has been very taxing.>>_

_< <Oh, nothing important… just… once I've answered the brain telephone, can I… hang it up?>>_

_< <Of course. Otherwise we would be trapped hearing each other's surface thoughts indefinitely. It merely requires that you end the spell.>>_

_< <Huh. Well… what if I didn't know I started the spell?>>_

If it were possible to feel such a thing, Tessa felt Dr. Strange sigh into her mind. << _You communicated with it, didn't you? >>_

_< <Only a little, and I didn't mean to.>>_

_< <Yes, well… this is of little consequence, it was my intention to school you on some basic warding spells as it was. You will simply have to ignore it until my instruction can begin.>>_

Tessa cut an eye towards the window. She could have sworn she saw the thing wink. << _Yeah… I'll just get on that. >>_

_< <Have you guessed yet? Guessed who I am? I can't tell you. It's against the rules, but you're a clever girl. I imagine you already know.>>_

_< <Jesus Christ, Strange, isn't there anything else you can do?>>_

_< <I can suggest distractions. Have you tried reciting the catalog of human bones, or the periodic table of elements? I hear it finds such subjects tedious and boring.>>_

_< <Nope. I'll get right on that. Alright. Bones. Occipital, parietal, temporal, frontal-->>_ There was another sigh in her mind and then a flutter of shadows. Looking over, the window was empty and Tessa was free. But she kept reciting for a while longer just in case. << _\--sphenoid, ethmoid, nasal… >>_

"Yoohoo… Bichon? You in there?" When Tessa tuned back in, out from the floating theme park of atomic elements in her mind, Tony Stark was tapping her on the forehead. "Ah, there she is. The doctor _is_ in the house. What'cha thinking about?"

"Ytterbium."

"Ah, that's a good one. Shiny. Useful. Fun name. You ready to go?"

"Go where?" As she sat up, Tessa realized she had a crowd of worried faces around her, excepting Stark of course. Matt foremost looked upset, chin tucked and brow knitted, his hands folded over his cane.

"Home. Or whatever other place you intend to go that is, naturally, within the radius of your house arrest. You just need to be rigged up and you're golden."

"You've already fabricated the suit?"

Stark scoffed, "who do you think you're talking to? Hammer Industries? Let's go, it comes with accessories. They require tuning."

Matt's hand found hers the moment they all fell into line behind Stark. He moved it to her elbow but slowed her pace so they were further behind in the hallway than Foggy and Vision. "Where were you?"

"In the weird storage unit of my brain where I keep the elements in non-periodic fashion. Why?"

"Your pulse was… almost non-existent."

"Meditative trance?" Tessa half-laughed, trying not to be concerned. Trying and failing.

Matt pursed his lips, forcing away a frown. "Do I want to know why?"

"Heh… probably not. Nothing illegal, though."

"Like that's reassuring." He sped their strides until they were back in step with the other three and then let go of her elbow. "I guess you'll tell me when you feel it's opportune."

Tessa didn't have a chance to act offended. Stark demanded all of their attention. "It's okay. I don't need accolades. It's only the most superlatively advanced piece of technology that I've produced to date." He shrugged and stopped beside a small table with just one item atop it.

"It's a syringe, Stark. Do I even want to know what that entails?"

"Of course you do, because it's mind-blowing. Nanotech. You know about nanotech." He picked up the syringe and wiggled it. "Say hello to your new suit."

Tessa blinked a few times and then crossed her arms. "And what's plan B? Because I'm not down and groovy with plan A."

"No plan B. This is it. No need to force you to wear something restrictive and uncomfortable when I can just integrate the protocols into your biology."

"Y--You know how mad scientist that sounds, don't you? Mr. Stark. Sir." Foggy took a step back after his outburst. "Your choice in alcohol is impeccable, by the way."

"Yes, to both. I know. Seems pretty, brrr, Mary Shelley, but I promise, it's not. I'm running a similar system myself. Been working on it for a while now and you're an ideal candidate to utilize the full Extremis upgrade. Nothing I can do hurts you. No vibranium alloys included. I know you're allergic."

"Okay… I get that you're excited, Stark, so you don't hear yourself right now. But… I don't want tiny robots inside of me. It's bad enough that I have to wear the government's leash. I don't want it to be tugging anywhere but from around the outside of my neck."

"Oh, it won't be. Any coercing the feds want to do will have to be through legal means and threats, the usual. All these little 'robots' as you've called them will do is inhibit your access to the biochemical signals of other people. See, within the assigned parameters, they'll emit this energy field that will… I'm losing you, I know, but bottom line, they're dampening only. No mind control. Even I'm not that advanced. At the moment."

"But they could be upgraded to facilitate that? With a software patch or the like?"

Stark turned to Matt, grin wide. "No. These little babies will not be venturing anywhere near Tess's priceless brain. Can't have them wandering in there and accidentally bumping into something and the whole world forgetting we're mostly at peace or something. They come near neurons and their signal degrades. I'd have to extract the whole of it to reprogram that sort of thing, and I won't. Promise."

"That's it? Little wifi signal-scramblers in my bloodstream?"

"Precisely."

"No… actual suit? No… no mask?"

"None of that, no. Seems the guys at the top want you totally private, just a civilian and that means no fancy super-suit. Sorry, Bichon."

The feeling of exposure was growing. Tessa tugged hard at her sleeves and felt no relief. "And my old suits?"

"All in lock down. One… is irreparably damaged. It's getting incinerated today, actually." Stark bobbled a brow and opened a drawer. "It's one of the decommissioned versions. Old school, not even a transponder in it."

Tessa reached out a hand, a feeling of security creeping back in front of the fear. She even smiled when the suit immediately changed colors, darkening to starlight and clouds. "No one will even miss it."

"What? I'm distracted with the syringe and my own impressiveness." Stark stood with his back turned to her and made a show of shaking the needle and watching the fluid through its glass.

Tessa snatched the suit and tied it, now invisible around her waist. "Okay, fine, Stark. I'll get your tiny robot inoculation, but if this goes Ultron on me, I'm finding Bruce and telling him it's your fault. Then I'm erasing your crotch-related memories."

"Geez, Bisho… threat accepted." He shuddered a little and then held out his hand. "Arm please. Now, this is a side effect free injection. My only warning… I don't know how it jives with magic, so I wouldn't suggest… mixing substances…"

 

"Yes, of course he strongly suggested against having it interact with magic. Magic is a variable he cannot control. And we both know how Anthony covets control…"

"Rabidly but also while in abject denial?"

"Precisely. If he ever faced his disembodied soul he would not recognize it."

"Speaking of not recognizing, doc, I know you said it'd been a long day, but… are you okay?"

Strange stood up straight, looking at her over his odd steampunk magnifying glass. "Yes, thank you for asking. I will ignore the implication behind the question."

"Yeah… yeah… no offense." Tessa cleared her throat and went back to investigating the ceiling as Strange stooped back down to gaze through the glass at her neck. "The lack of collar on your shirt just threw me off. And sleeves. And the fact that you own sneakers."

"Magic can only take one so far in the upstream trudge towards good health." An eye, oversized, mostly transparent and otherwise irradiant through the enchanted lens, flitted up towards Tessa's face. It literally twinkled for half a second. "And it doesn't hurt to realign the stream of magic in oneself with a few asana."

Tessa snorted, "I bet yoga with you around is a whole other level of transcendental."

"I am rather popular at the studio."

"You know, doc, I think I've learned more about you today than I have over the last year combined."

"I've recently been made aware of the fact that I come off rather aloof. I am trying to remedy that where it is appropriate. Well…" He stood again, magnifying glass disappearing from his hand. "They appear to be magic averse, actually. Not surprising. Science and magic, as forces, are infamously incompatible. That said, they did not react violently to adjacent magic. I believe your apprenticeship may commence without interference or ill effect."

"Fantastic." A glance at her phone told her she'd been in there a little over five minutes. "Well, I'd better be going… you can only be in the restroom for so long before people start worrying… thinking about not so pleasant things. Also, I'm pretty sure your glamor is wearing off."

Strange glanced over his shoulder at the woman standing in the bathroom door, her eyes narrowed. "So it seems. Pardon us, ma'am. My sister needed someone to hold her hair back."

Tessa gave a convincing gag, needing only to conjure the feeling from a few hours before, and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "She sees us now, right?"

"Mm-hmm. The spell is degrading, so we're not invisible, but she doesn't see us as us. I'm a rather uncomely woman at the moment. Now would be the best time to leave. I'll find you tomorrow, we'll begin with gestures."

"You two realize that's the only sink you're fucking ralphing into, right?" The woman scoffed and turned back towards the bar. "I'm getting Josie…"

"Yup. Now's definitely the time to go. Later, doc." Tessa waved as Strange melted into thin air and then slipped as quietly as she could out of the bathroom behind the grumbling woman. Fortunately, that didn't take much doing. The bar was unusually crowded and more than usually rowdy. Tessa went entirely unnoticed in her slink back to the booth they had crammed their group into.

"There you are, chica… Everything okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Some idiot was vomiting into the sink apparently. Caused some problems." Tessa slid onto the bench beside Jess, ignoring the cock of Matt's head her way. "Josie's on her way to take care of it now, I think."

"Lucky for you we went ahead and grabbed something for you while you were in there." Luke passed her a heavily sweating bottle after wiping the mouth of it off on his shirt. "This place is a hole, by the way. And I'd know."

"Yeah, but it's our hole and we love it. I know. That sounded… not great… Oh! Hold that thought. Karen's here!"

Practically the entire booth emptied as Foggy struggled to free himself and head for the entrance. Matt took the opportunity to slide in beside Tessa. As Luke and Jess and Danny all smashed into the seats meant for smaller and fewer people, Matt leaned into her ear.

"What really happened in the bathroom?"

"Strange," Tessa breathed back and then immediately took a drink. "Hey, you two, keep the fondling to a minimum in close quarters like this."

Jess glanced up under her lids at Tessa and smirked. "This _is_ the minimum, chica."

"Trust me. They're very physically expressive people." Danny shut one eye and loosed his finger, flicking the bottle cap he'd propped up square into Luke's neck. "All you can do is distract them."

"Gonna have to try harder than that, man." Luke's massive hand reached around Jess and grabbed Danny's drink. "I'm taking this, as payback."

"Yeah. Whatever keeps you from mackin' on each other while I'm smashed between you and a wall."

"Mackin,' Danny? Who _are_ you?"

Danny rolled his eyes again and then grinned Tessa's way. "Well, congratulations on not being in cuffs anymore."

"Thanks. Actually, I just… I wanna thank everyone here for all the support, legal and otherwise, you've given me the past few… uh, weeks? Months? You get the gist. I wouldn't have made it without you." Tessa nodded at each of them and then grabbed her beer, chugging it as she saw Karen and Foggy approaching. "D'you catch that, you two? I'm deeply grateful and indebted to all of you for your help and shit. And I'm gonna start paying it back right now, with a fresh round."

Matt budged with her shove and cleared out of the booth with her. "I'll help carry."

"Right. What's everyone having?" Tessa nodded at each's shouted order and then waded towards the bar, Matt at her elbow. "Josie's not serving right now. I guess we'll have to wait."

"Mm. Let's step outside. We might catch her at the loading door."

Foggy was by no means a superhero. Not even close, and he was happy in that knowledge. All the same, he had developed this extraordinary and ridiculously niche talent. He had this spot deep in his chest, right about the area he associated with that sick feeling of anxiety. So, this spot, when it tingled, he knew Matt was doing something that would bite Foggy in the ass down the road. As he sat beside Karen, enjoying the company and waiting for a drink, Foggy felt a tickle in that spot. A check of the bar confirmed that the tickle wasn't a false positive. No Matt, no Tessa. Trouble was brewing somewhere.

"Hey, guys, sorry but… I'm gonna just… you know, climb over you…"

"Whoa!"

"Foggy…"

"The hell, man!?"

He straightened up outside of the booth and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, gotta help Matt with something." There was no point in waiting around to field their reactions, the real thorn in his side was off somewhere creating a bigger shit show for him to clean up in the near future. Cursory scans of all dark corners and the bathrooms turned up nothing but things Foggy wished he could un-see. So, he shoved his way through the bar line and towards the door. He really should have started outside. Knowing Matt, he was feeling up their client in the alleyway, out of sight.

"Goddamnit, Matt!" For what it was worth, Foggy didn't _enjoy_ being right. He could blame Matt for that complex. "I _knew_ you were lying to me the other morning! Are you out of your mind? This could get us--"

"Nothing. This could get us nothing, Foggy. The trial was dismissed." The asshole didn't even take his hands off of her. He just stood there, half-groping her, grinning like the devil. "We're just two people caught red-handed getting frisky in an alleyway. All the same, I wasn't lying the other morning."

"Ahem." Tessa dislodged herself from between the wall and Matt's hands. "I can wait inside if you two want to finish this--"

"No. There's nothing to finish, Dr. B. Sorry. Sorry for snapping. I'm just… Matt gets me neck deep in shit with decisions like this. It occurs to me now, though, that… there was more than just Matt's libido involved in this decision… You're both adults… I'm sure you can figure out how this will crash down on your heads without me policing you. Enjoy your cavorting. I'm going back inside." 

Tessa hitched her skirt back down as they watched Foggy slump off inside. "We probably should have waited until later to celebrate like this."

"Probably," Matt sighed. "I hate lying to him."

"You also hate dealing with him when he'd mad at you, a consequence of you lying to him. Listen. Just stop lying to him about this. You said it, the trial's been dismissed, my life's been all government locked down… as much as it can be, really. Just tell him what happened. You'll feel better, he'll forgive you. Probably. Things can move on. Trust me, I wish I could do the same…"

Matt sulked a little as she straightened his tie. "This won't just be a conversation. It'll be an event."

"So? Just get it over with. Do that tonight. I have a big first day of… everything… for the next few… _exhausting_ days. We can do the celebration thing once everything's settled down, after my first day in the office. Then, it'll really be earned. Come on, let's get back inside. They'll be getting thirsty in there." She cupped his cheek and then turned for the door. "Back into character, Murdock."

Back inside, Josie was waiting for them at the bar. "Nelson said you'd be paying for this haul."

"Thanks, Josie."

"So, I'll just put it on your--"

Tessa slid her Starkcard across the bar. "No, I'm getting this one."

"Alright." Josie ran the card, nodding. "You're growing on me, brawler. A little every time."

For being pissed the fuck off at Matt, Foggy was his usual light-hearted self at the table. As the two of them shuffled up with the drinks, he had the whole group scoffing and shaking their heads at something. "…sure Matt didn't let her pay, you know? But they're not buying drinks. They're feeling each other up in the alleyway. But _really_ ," he glanced their way pointedly as Tessa slid the first of the drinks across the table. "Who's surprised. They've had that magnetism between them for weeks now, bound to pull 'em together with a few drinks and warm fuzzies greasing the gears."

"That only just happened? I was sure they had something going before now. No lawyer is that attentive--sorry, man--don't matter how good a person they are, if there isn't some ulterior motive."

Jess accepted her drink with a snort. " _That_ explains why Murdock was on my couch the other morning instead of in his own bed."

"Hey, we at Nelson and Murdock stop at nothing to protect and defend our clients," Matt chuckled and then hid in his glass.

"Sure, law boy, but nobody pulls an all-nighter on a lumpy, pokey couch if you're not holding a torch. It's cool. It's fair. We're not judging, it all worked out. My girl, Tess here, finally gets to hook up with a redhead. She has a kink."

"Jesus, Jess…"

"What? You gave me shit about fondling here and then took your happy self out back and had a nice groping. I'm gonna give you the appropriate amount of shit back."

"Fair… fair, _but_ I bought you all drinks."

"Sorry, Tessa, but you already said those were a show of gratitude for the help and support."

"Good catch, Page. The drinks will hold no sway over our shit-giving."

Tessa laughed, hands in the air. "Fine! Fine… let the shit show commence. I'm ready for anything at this point."

**Author's Note:**

> Jessica Jones- I have no idea where this Jessica comes from but she's been a voice in my head for a while... I think of her as a combination of Eliza Dushku and Sailor Jupiter meets Freema Agyeman. Don't ask. She's clearly not the Krysten Ritter MCU version we'll get and I'm okay with that. She kicks ass and will largely follow her 616 arc.  
> Natasha Romanoff- my sun, my moon, my stars. I love Natasha Romanova. I bet you'll get that in the following chapters. She's CA:WS Natasha, plain and simple. And she deserved better. Period.  
> Clint Barton- Hawkguy. I'm talking, Matt Fraction's human crap sack, Clint Barton. This is 616 Clint and I will take no substitutes. Not Ultimate. 616. Not Jeremy Renner. Think, 6'2", fit but floundering marksman. Think Jensen Ackles, think Michael Ealy, think Chris Pine, think Tyler Hoechlin, think anybody, I don't care, but he's not Jeremy Renner. He's deaf and a walking disaster, who lives in Bed-Stuey with a dog, probably eating pizza and drinking coffee, hating himself. That's my Clint Barton.  
> Tony Stark- largely MCU. I'm among the converted masses who, after the trailer premiered for the film, could not hear the words Iron Man or Tony Stark without conjuring RDJ's face into their head. That was in 2007. RDJ's been my Tony Stark for eight fucking years. Damn you, RDJ.  
> Helen Cho- One of the few gems squirreled away from the film that shall not be named. I think she deserved more, which sadly she won't get much of here as I'm already juggling a fuck ton of characters. But I won't go against canon characterization...  
> Steve Rogers and Co.- when they appear you will hopefully recognize them as being CA:WS+ some 616 qualities. I haven't deviated much with the Captains. Sam Wilson is a perfect treasure. Oh, and I love Bucky Barnes.  
> Vision & Wanda Maximoff- the other two gems stolen away with Helen Cho. They'll be chimeras of their MCU and 616 selves as well.  
> Dr. Strange & T'Challa- So... these two are COMING SOON, but I haven't seen much about them beyond the obvious, so they're conjured from my speculations about the MCU future and the 616.  
> Dr. Bruce Banner- Sweet turtledove. This one is Mark Ruffalo through and through. His performance in the Avengers made a lasting impression despite my skepticism coming in. But from The Avengers only. Though, I don't know where else you'd get an idea of his Marvel cinematic presence...  
> Wade Wilson a.k.a. Deadpool a.k.a. The Merc' with a Mouth a.k.a. -- that's enough. Ah, Deadpool. Finally getting the attention you deserve, even if it's entirely retconned. I'm fine with it. All the same, despite Ryan Reynolds taking another crack at our Regenerating Degenerate, this is 616 Deadpool, the demented, the psychotic, the endearing. You can picture Ryan Reynolds if you want. That's your prerogative (and canon according to Kelly). But he better have Demi Moore's voice in your head.  
> Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law- Matt, Karen, and Foggy are largely influenced by Netflix's R-rated take on them. I mean, when you say Matt Murdock, my brain brings up Charlie Cox with his shirt off, not Ben Affleck. But beyond that, it's like most of the others: a good potpourri of MCU and 616.  
> AAAANND, finally, welcoming Power Man and Iron Fist- So, Luke Cage looks like Mike Colter in my head, but is largely informed by 616 arcs since his role on screen was too minimal in 'JJ' to get a real idea of his personality. Danny Rand, on the other hand, I was gunning for a less *ahem* canonical casting choice. See him as you please, I suppose, but he is, at least personality-wise, geared towards certain 616 depictions.  
> The rest... should be obvious. Or you could ask. Whatever floats your boat.


End file.
